Forbidden Alliance
by mau'indi
Summary: Tyler Vasquez is chosen by Weyland Co. to seal a treaty between Earth and a powerful Predator clan by bonding with a disgraced warrior. Trapped within a web of intrigue, will she be able maintain her humanity and survive long enough to save both races?
1. Pain

**Author's Note:** Dear Reader, thank you for taking the time to read this story. Constructive criticism is always welcomed and if you have questions, please feel free to message me.

* * *

**Pain**

* * *

Sweat stained sheets clung to her legs, their chill embrace sending goose bumps across her naked body. Tyler's hunched form shivered and she hugged her knees tighter to her chest, her bloodshot burning eyes staring at the darkened sheets at her feet. Her head felt like it was on fire, her body cramped and numb, frozen into painful apathy. She concentrated on the memories and the reason why she was here, doing her best to ignore the searing chemicals flowing through her bloodstream, stretching her, pulling her apart.

Sonya, she was here for her little sister Sonya and she wouldn't give up. Her sister, her happy, beautiful little sister, would be able to run and jump and play just like all the other kids. Tyler taught Sonya to be tough and stand up for herself. She hoped she'd taught her enough about guys, how stupid they were and how it was better to focus on school instead.

Stomach cramps ripped through her suddenly and she gritted her teeth to try and keep from moaning. But Tyler couldn't keep the tears from flowing. The chemicals were spreading from her veins into her muscles and organs, systematically warping her cells, down to the very fabric of her DNA. She refused to cry out like the others around her. Every once in a while someone would futilely plead with God or a doctor to make the pain stop. That wasn't going to happen anytime soon Tyler knew. All of them were being given the highest morphine doses possible. Anymore and it would kill them.

She tried to concentrate again on the happy memories of her life. Her mother getting her that stupid, pink, sparkly unicorn bike she'd always wanted, Sonya saying her name for the first time, camping with her Girl Scout troop… playing soccer… with her sisters…

The cramps hit her again with a vengeance. She fell to her side as a wave of dizziness and nauseous overcame her senses. Images from the war started surfacing. Bloodstained walls. The dead child with flies covering his body. The smell of burnt human flesh. Her friend's brains oozing out of his skull.

One of the dozens of monitors began shrilly beeping as she collapsed into unconsciousness. A futile escape from the pain she knew she had chosen.

* * *

**'-, -|- \'-**

* * *

A low moan issued from the woman on the other side of the one way glass, distracting Special Agent Harris from his thoughts. He glanced again her emaciated frame, every manner of tube, wire and needle piercing every major vein in her body. An A.I. monitored the patient at the cellular level, continually adjusting to fluctuations in temperature, electrical and chemical impulses and a host of other complicated functions he couldn't name.

Science had made mind boggling progress in the last twenty years, a race dominated by the titan companies Weyland and Yutani. This secret project was yet another power play in the bloodthirsty competition the two companies had waged over the long years. But this project was different, special, with monumental implications as impressed upon him by Weyland's president, Charles Weyland III. Secrecy was vital and making sure secrets were kept was his specialty. He scrolled through the patient's background information again, reaching absentmindedly for the cigarettes in his left pocket that were no longer there. He kept forgetting he'd kicked the habit several months ago. He chewed on his pen instead, another habit his wife would probably start complaining about too.

_Alejandra "Tyler" Vasquez_, he read. _Marine Corps, served a few tours in the Second Korean War, working on her bachelor's, lived in Los Angeles, never married, five siblings, 12-year-old sister paralyzed…_

He scrolled down.

_Patient displays high levels of fitness and mental stability. Genetic compatibility rate: 32.012 – Low. Subject will be placed in sub-group A-TS67. Survival chances: Negligible. Inoperable brain tumor renders subject valid for second phase testing._

"Agent Harris."

He glanced over at the woman approaching. She was petite, a head shorter than him, with a touch of gray at her temples. He couldn't tell her age but he guessed somewhere in the fifties.

"Dr. Chan, I presume?" he said, turning to shake her hand. She returned the greeting, more out of politeness than friendliness he perceived, and then held her hands behind her back.

"Yes. I understand you will preside over security at this facility." She stated it as a fact, rather than a question. Straight to the point this woman, he noted.

"Mr. Weyland said he trusts you." Now she was being vague. He frowned. Dr. Chan had been gazing at the patient the whole time.

"Yes."

"What did he tell you?"

"That the project was important, top secret… special," Harris replied. "Mr. Weyland said it was classified as a super soldier program, one of several such projects currently being researched and developed, to camouflage it. He told me it was… complicated."

Dr. Chan nodded and Agent Harris waited for her response which came after a lengthy moment of silence.

"The woman in front of us, you've read her file. She is the third test subject to make it Phase II of the process."

"Third? Where are the other two?" he asked.

"Dead," she stated without emotion. "We have four more entering Phase I as we speak."

"She doesn't look like she'll last much longer," he said, unconsciously chewing on his pen.

"Her body is expected to reject the infusions at any moment and shut down. We've accelerated the process, to see how much we can push her body before it shuts down."

"You make it sound like she's a machine."

Dr. Chan gave him a stern glance. "To an extent, the human body is a machine. An incredibly complex one."

_Sacrificed in the name of Science_, he thought. Harris decided to steer the conversation to something less controversial.

"I heard participants are offered substantial compensation if they agree to be test subjects," he said.

"Her sister will be given the ability to walk for the first time and her family will be well provided for, courtesy of the company."

Agent Harris raised his eyebrows and looked back at the woman again. Her flushed, thin, hairless frame looked nothing like the beautiful, athletic Latina in the data pad tucked beneath his shoulder. He admired her bravery. It would be a pity few would know of her sacrifice.

* * *

**\'- \|/ ;|-**

* * *

She blinked, staring at the white ceiling above her. At first, Tyler couldn't remember why she was here, or where here was. The pain reminded her. She sucked in deep breaths in an attempt to control it. She felt heavy, like there were weights inside her. The weight burned deep inside, like the molten core of the sun. Waves of heat pulsed across her numb skin.

"Tyler? Tyler, can you hear me?" a voice asked, shining a small light into eyes.

Tyler blinked and followed the light with her eyes. She managed a weak reply despite her throat feeling hoarse and swollen. Her mouth felt strange, like her jaw had come loose and her teeth had fallen out. Several doctors congregated in the corner, reviewing notes, talking in hushed, urgent tones. Nurses and technicians began to move rapidly around her, prepping machines and tools. This had happened only once before.

"I wanna… speak to the doctor…" she managed to croak to nurse nearest her.

The nurse nodded and scurried over to an older Asian woman, who nodded at the attendant and walked over to Tyler's bedside.

"Yes, Ms. Vasquez?"

"What is happening? What are they going… to do to me now?" she asked. Tyler hated how pathetic she sounded. Even with missiles screaming overhead and bullets whizzing inches from her body she'd held her ground, done what needed to be done. This was different. Torture was the only word she could find to describe her experiences. As a soldier she'd been taught endure physical harm by fortifying her mind's defenses in case she was taken captive. A broken mind killed a person quicker than a broken body in such circumstances.

"We are moving into Phase III. You will be unconscious for the next several days, during which the transformation process will be accelerated. No one has ever survived this far so we cannot predict what will happen," said the Asian woman matter-of-factly. Tyler could not remember her name.

"My sister? My family, are they…"

"They are well. Your sister's surgery is scheduled to take place soon, and yes, she will be able to walk. Now I must go Ms. Vasquez," she said in that professional veneer everyone seemed to wear in this place.

In the next moment Tyler's consciousness faded.

* * *

**;|- '/, |/,**

* * *

Rachel Chan pored over the data streams and DNA analyses for a third time, rubbing her eyes when they blurred in exhaustion. They felt swollen and puffy. Her back felt stiff and joints complained. Several other technicians worked with their assigned A.I. in monitoring the subject floating in the viscous liquid not 20 feet away. They were so close to succeeding, so close, and yet… the thought that something might go wrong plagued her, wouldn't let her get but a moments rest. Dr. Hardy would be in soon and would insist she get some rest before she collapsed, the well meaning bastard. He'd been looking out for her since they'd been friends in med school. Chan knew she was exhausted, but what they were doing was a miracle of biotechnology and she would witness as much of it as she could. The woman they'd placed in that tank was slowly being replaced by something other, something completely… alien.

Dr. Hardy's protests interrupted her thoughts.

"Chan, Dammit, I thought I told you to rest. The lab will still be hear when you wake up," he said, crossing his arms in exasperation.

"Jonathan, this is too important, I—"

"You need sleep. Doctor's orders," said the cheery Aarti Patel, one of the heads of microbiology, in her lilting Indian accent. "Jonathan and I can take things from here. Don't worry, we will call you the moment something happens."

Defeated, Chan sighed and shuffled to the doorway. Her sleeping pad wasn't far, just down this hallway. Sleep sounded great right now, she thought, as drowsiness started to claim her body. Rachel didn't remember opening the door or laying down, but suddenly she was being shaken awake.

"Jonathan," she groaned, rolling over, blindly searching for her glasses. "What is it? What happened?"

"Dr. Chan! Dr. Chan it's happening! The process is accelerating! It's incredible!"

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Blood


	2. Blood

**Author's Note:**

**Korey** - a derogatory name for North Koreans

**Cooking off** - a term for holding a grenade for a few seconds after the pin has been pulled, so the enemy doesn't have time to throw it back. Fuses however, may vary for each grenade, making this technique dangerous to the user and those around him.

**Oorah** - a U.S. Marine affirmative and battle cry (also spelled Hoorah)

* * *

**Blood**

* * *

Squad Leader Young's voice cut through the scream of bullets and hail of shrapnel. A sniper's nest two blocks northwest of their position had pinned her and Private Watts behind a crumbling wall and cut them off from their squad just across the street.

"Vasquez! Watts! Fall back and join Sergeant Bridges' unit! You will assist him in taking out that nest! Join-" her commander's voice was lost in a scream of jet engines, followed seconds by earth shaking explosions several miles away. Her commander ordered them to regroup after the strike. Vasquez gave a quick thumbs up and followed Watts through the maze of burned buildings and torn streets. She could feel the thunder of super tanks as they shot barrage after barrage into enemy territory. Energy missiles nicknamed "silent lightning" created eerie light shows beneath the gray sky, throwing everything into sharp staccato black and white images. Through the strobing light, Vasquez caught sight of Sgt. Bridges unit and motioned for Watts to follow. After verifying that they were friendlies, she and Watts quickly scurried into position with their brother unit.

"We were cut off from our squad and ordered to assist you in taking out that nest, sir," explained Vasquez. "Where is Sgt. Bridges?"

"Sgt. Bridges is dead," said a young man behind her. "I am Corporal Bryce. Welcome aboard."

The corporal quickly explained their mission, a bloodstained glove pointing out the best route to take to the nest. In silence they moved forward, no more than a few feet from another soldier. Bryce signaled a halt at the end of the alley way. An enemy group of about four soldiers had taken shelter behind a couple overturned cars. Watts called it and pulled out a grenade. He pulled the pin and then held it, grinning like an idiot when he and Vasquez's eyes met.

"Cooking off? Are you crazy?" hissed Vasquez.

Watts just laughed as darted out of the alley and tossed the grenade, shouting, "Oorah muthafu—"

The detonation cut off his battle cry. The other soldiers chuckled even as Bryce told Watts to cut the crap and if he pulled a shit stunt like that again he'd be the one getting a grenade shoved up _his_ ass.

"Sir, yes sir!" saluted Watts in all seriousness this time, but grinned when caught Vasquez's eye. Vasquez muttered a string of Spanish curses as she followed him. After two more blocks, Cpl. Bryce signaled for a halt. Sniper shots zipped from the tower and Vasquez prayed they had missed their targets. Bryce ordered a man named Erikson wearing a grenade launcher to the front. Korey loved setting up booby traps, especially under sniper nests. With several loud hisses the grenades streaked into the first floor of the building and detonated with concussive blast.

"Move!" shouted Bryce and they sprinted into the building. First floor cleared, they moved to the second story, then the third, then the fourth. There was no resistance as they swept the area. Vasquez was ordered to the front and would lead the charge onto the roof. Her mouth felt dry and her heart raced. In the next sixty seconds she might not be alive, a realization that hadn't exactly hit home the last several days since she'd been in almost constant combat. _No going back_, she thought. She gave the signal, someone opened the door and she rushed through, firing to the left as soon as sunlight hit her face. She heard shots being fired behind her and someone screamed. She pumped several shots into one sniper, turning his chest into red, gory mess. Watts shot the other sniper before he could reload and kill her. Barely thirty seconds had elapsed and it was over.

Vasquez breathed a small sigh of relief. Three enemies dead. No marines wounded.

Her companions filed down the stairs. She tried to follow. Her legs felt heavy, like she was wading through molasses. She looked down at her hands. They were red._Blood?_Then she realized everything looked red. Was there blood in her eyes? Oh crap, had she been shot? Feeling started to drain from her arms. No matter how she rubbed the same blood red color permeated everything.

"Watts? Watts!" she cried out. Now she couldn't see anything but red. It was everywhere. It felt sticky. _Blood, blood, I'm drowning in my own blood!_ She thought, panicking, trying to roll over, to get out, to breathe. She felt sharp stings all over her body. _Shit! Someone's shooting at me! How the hell is there this much blood?_ Tyler regained control of her limbs and kicked. The muffled sound of glass cracking reached her ears and she realized she was surrounded by it. She kicked again, harder and harder, her lungs burning. Glass shattered and the blood drained away. She crawled through the small opening, dropping to the floor, coughing up more blood as she lay there. Shouts, footsteps and the shrill blare of emergency klaxons filled her ears. _A hospital? A bunker? When the hell did I pass out?_Someone was shouting for her to get down, which confirmed to Vasquez that they were under attack. She got up to her hands and knees and reached for her sidearm, but it was missing. A split second later she realized she was completely unclothed. She looked up in confusion, then froze.

A woman crouched before her, calling her name. Her face glowed with amber light, her eyes nearly white, but for the pale yellow irises moving inside. The woman's hair shimmered gold, sharply contrasted by the violet coat she wore. She looked around and every person she could see was glowing with a strange inner light. Heat, she realized as she stared at the pale red waves curling off the machines around her. She could see heat.

"Vasquez? Are you alright? Are you with us?" the voice said. Her eyes locked back on the woman. She tried to answer but the words in her head came out as guttural gibberish. She felt her lips suddenly spread from her face and she started in surprise as she watched grotesque finger-like appendages reach out towards the woman. _What the hell is wrong with my face? Why can't I talk?_She reached up, worriedly touching her face, withdrawing them in horror. Mirror. She needed a mirror. A hand grabbed at her arm as she fought to stand.

"Ms. Vasquez, please, wait, we need to make sure everything's alright. We will explain everything, just please try to be calm and tell us what you need," said a man in a purple and orange glowing lab coat.

_A mirror_, she thought, looking at him. _I need a mirror._

* * *

**Next Chapter:** Darkblade


	3. Darkblade

**Author's Note: **

I'm well aware that there already exists an unofficial, yet generally accepted, Predator language. But the more I thought about how Predators form words the less inclined I was to base the names of my characters on Steve Perry's rendition of their language and culture. Based on the sounds I've heard Predators create (clicks, growls, hisses, etc…) I decided that since they don't have lips they would not use sounds associated with the letters "p", "v", "m" or "b". I added the sounds "rr", which indicates that the double "r" is rolled, "sj", a combo of the "shuh" and "juh", making a "SHyuh" sound, and "dj", which gives the "j" sound a harder edge. "Sj" and "dj" are based on the Nordic sound "fj" found in the word "fjord", pronounced "fih-YORD". Thus "sjord" would sound like "shih-YORD" and "djord" like "jih-YORD". "Ch" will sound like a hard "k", as in "kite", unless otherwise indicated. A more complete version of the pronunciation guide of names and words can be found on my profile.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Ashann **– ah-SHAHN - Predator home world

**Auran ****–** AW-ren

**Djaiden **– D'JAI-den - sword

**Draken **- DRAA-ken - blade

**Churong **– KOO-rong

**Huunan **– HOO-nan - human

**Nasil **– nah-SILL - extremely thirsty

**Iyeiden **– Ai-YAY-den

**Raienthril **– Rai-EN-thrill

**Shai-dra **– SHY-drah

**Tharr **– THARR - dark

* * *

**Darkblade**

* * *

**Ashann**

**30,000 Light-years from Earth**

Over two dozen warriors stood in loose clusters around the small room, staying close to the walls as it was not their place to cross the center of the room. They awaited their host who, as custom dictated, would be the last to arrive. To be summoned so abruptly when the first sun had already set was unusual. To be kept waiting so long after receiving such an urgent message was troubling. They kept at least two arm's lengths between each other as a reassurance that there was no hostility. Hisses punctuated by agitated clicks filled the torch lit chamber as warriors and councilors discussed tribal politics and recent exploits to savage worlds. No one however, spoke of the reason they were gathered. To speculate without knowing would insult the host and the message.

The younger warriors of the tribes were the most uneasy. Gatherings of this sort were for elders and councilors. They deferred most of the conversation to the older warriors present, quietly debating between themselves whether the Poison Daggers' honor had been stained and how much restitution should be offered to the Singing Blade tribe.

Footsteps approaching the entrance silenced all conversation and heads turned in anticipation. As soon as the warrior stepped into the room, the elders and councilors murmured guttural greetings while those without the touch of gray in their hair bowed their heads. The warrior was dressed in silver and black, the thick, jagged scars that crisscrossed his arms and chest just visible beneath his armor. He moved with a deadly grace that came only after countless hunts and battles. An aura of authority surrounded him: Shaidra, wielder of Djaidenasil, the Sword that Thirsts.

"Shaidra'Djaidenasil," acknowledged Elder Iyeiden first, as he was the eldest amongst the group gathered. The rest thumped their chests in greeting. Shaidra paused for several heartbeats, then returned the greeting. His acceptance of their display of respect allowed the group to relax. Honest words could now be spoken. Shaidra stepped into the middle of the chamber to speak, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Blood brothers, I gather you tonight to announce what we have so patiently waited for," he said. "The huunans are capable of sealing the treaty."

The respectful silence was replaced by low rumbles and confused hisses. A young warrior named Churong took a step forward and all eyes turned to him.

"How can this be when the huunans capabilities are so inferior? They themselves said it was probably impossible, yet they achieve success in less than ten turns of our world?" he objected. Shaidra's cold stare made Churong shift his gaze, but he held his stance. All eyes glanced back to Shaidra.

"How they achieve things is of no concern of ours. What matters is they have achieved what they promised," he stated, ending all questions on the subject.

"They will want more knowledge," intoned one elder.

"Like infants, they are greedy for it," remarked another.

"Such a weak race will perish amongst the stars," rumbled a grizzled veteran.

Shaidra held up his hand and all discussion ceased. A shuffling sound punctuated by a clicking noise echoed from the hallway behind him.

"There is a second matter to announce, related to the first," he growled, his gaze sweeping over the entire group. "One of the warriors present will seal the treaty."

The shuffling and clicking were the only sounds that filled the chamber for several heartbeats before roars of outrage drowned them out. Shaidra's roar cut like thunder through the noise and his blood red eyes burned with an inner fire. His stance opened as a challenge for anyone to defy him. Growls thrummed within the warriors' chests but none made a move. Then Raienthril stepped forward.

"When was it decided that we would be bartered with like females?" he challenged, fists clenched in anger. Rumbles of approval rose from the chest of young warriors. The elders remained silent.

"How can we be bonded with the huunan's…_thing_? What if it pollutes our bloodline?" he spat. "I refuse to mate with such a creature."

Shaidra simply moved to the side, exposing the entryway. Raienthril went rigid for a second, as if he'd been slapped, then slowly made his way past Shaidra, wisely keeping his eyes to the floor. When Shaidra again stood in the center of the room, none spoke. Raienthril's disgust had clouded his judgment. Shaidra's dismissal was an apt punishment for his ignorant outburst.

"The huunans assure my messengers that the transformation process was completely successful and that the female's body remains without mutation," he stated. "What matters most is that the treaty can now be sealed between our clan and their race. This pact will be a symbol of our strength as we prepare to take back what was stolen from our tribes long ago."

Anger was replaced with pride as the warriors listened to his words. They trilled their approval and thumped their chests. Satisfied, he turned to the hunched figure that had slipped in unnoticed during his argument with Raienthril and stepped aside for him to take the floor.

"High priest Firak," he growled, "will reveal the God and Goddess' will of who will blood bond with the huunan's offering. Honor the Creators' messenger."

The gathered warriors knelt, their eyes fixed on the priest's every move. He was old. Perhaps the oldest yautja in the city. His gnarled hands clutched at a tall staff, his back was slightly hunched and his pale skin was beginning to sag. His white dreadlocks dragged along the floor, no doubt the reason why his back was bent.

The sacred honor of being a priest was both a gift and a curse for the rare individual chosen, for by serving the God he was assured longevity, but he would never know the honor of battle, nor achieve a glorious death. A priestess did not stand beside him as a representative of the Goddess, since the mixing of the sexes was viewed by some as taboo. Only priests and priestesses could intermingle freely, but even they preferred to be separate most of the time.

Sacred symbols and talismans hung from his frail body and scripture tattooed onto his flesh could be glimpsed beneath his crimson robes. Like all priests and priestesses he wore a mask depicting a particular aspect of the God or Goddess. The high priest wore the mask of secrets. Large oval eyes were surrounded by intricate whorls and inscriptions. Six horns fanned out from the top of his helm. Below the eyes where a mouth should be the mask was smooth and unmarked.

He did not speak, but signed his message in war chant with one hand. He tapped his staff to the ground at the end of every other verse.

_Swift strike below, silent strike above_

_He is shadow runner in the dark, alone beneath the red sun._

_Swift strike before, silent strike behind_

_Old blood sings within as fresh blood falls to ground._

_Swift to the death dance, silent in his words_

_Wanderer of a thousand worlds, bound by blood to one._

The enrapt warriors watched silently as the priest turned without another word and shuffled back into the darkened hallway. The elders huddled in the center and debated which amongst the younger warriors present matched the priest's cryptic descriptions. 'Old blood' meant the warrior was from a long line of distinguished hunters, they readily concluded. A solitary hunter, who preferred quick killing strikes instead of the long chase. After long moments they soon realized who the warrior from the chant was. They whispered their conclusion to Shaidra and he nodded in agreement. The young warriors, still crouched upon the floor, tensed. None of them made a sound as Shaidra addressed them.

"Auran'Drakenatharr," he announced. Relief turned to confusion as every eye looked in vain for the named warrior.

"Iyeiden!" Shaidra snapped, rounding on the old hunter, "Where is he?"

* * *

**-|- '\- ,|;**

* * *

Auran sat before the ancestral shrine, meditating, when three of Shaidra's warriors burst through the doorway dressed in full war gear. He raised a hand when the leader of their group opened his mouth to speak.

"I know who sent you," he said, calmly strapping his sword Drakenatharr to his back, "And I will not fight you."

The warriors followed behind as Auran made his way to Shaidra's palace, ignoring the sibilant whispers he left in his wake. As he climbed the last steps, the massive stone doors swung out. Light spilled down the steps and washed over Auran as he entered into the great hall. The warriors behind him disappeared as he made his way to the fuming figure standing at the other end of the cavernous room.

"Stop," hissed Shaidra. Auran obeyed, adopting a casual stance. Shaidra advanced slowly, each step measured and controlled. Auran could see the anger burning in the old warrior's eyes and decided it was best to simply stare straight ahead.

"I summoned you," growled Shaidra. "_I,_Lord of the Thousand Blades, the Shan of Kuuroch, summoned you, and you had the gall to defy me!"

Shaidra roared the last few words in Auran's face. Auran took several deep steadying breaths. As he did so he inhaled Shaidra's musk, the bitter taste of aggression nearly overwhelming him. If he wasn't careful, Shaidra's rage would affect him beyond his control. He could already feel his body reacting to the odor. He waited until he was allowed to speak. A throaty rumble gave him permission, but carried a warning.

"Shaidra'Djaidenasil, I will give you my reason for disobeying the summons," said Auran, pausing. He must choose his next words carefully. "I believed the presence of Iyeiden sufficient as a representative of our tribe. My knowledge of tribal affairs is limited. I would be of no use to you."

Cynical laughter greeted his ears and Auran shifted slightly in surprise, frowning at the warrior's unexpected reaction.

"Look me in the eye," commanded Shaidra and Auran obeyed. "Do you know of what we discussed? Do you know of the plan our tribe has so patiently waited all these years to put in motion? I know Iyeiden has spoken of these things with you."

Auran nodded. Iyeiden had discussed these things. Auran had listened out of respect rather than interest. He would fight in the great battle when his clan called upon him. For Auran, that was enough. Politics held no meaning for him. He braced himself in case Shaidra's fury overwhelmed him. Instead the old warrior walked past him several paces. Auran heard him turn.

"The God has chosen you to seal the treaty with the huunans."

The words punched a hole in Auran's chest and he sucked in a shuddering gasp. _No,_he thought. He twisted around to face Shaidra.

"This cannot be," he hissed. Auran felt his heart race and his thoughts became disordered. He watched as Shaidra's anger give way to a solemnity.

"It is the will of the God. You will be bonded at the end of the windstorm season. After the rites of passage for the unblooded are conducted, our tribes will strike our enemies while they are weak and easy prey," he said, leaving Auran with those words.

Auran did not remember returning to his chambers, nor did he remember hanging Drakenatharr upon the wall. He fell to his knees before the ancestral shrine, trying in vain forget the one thing he could not.


	4. Arachne

**Author's Note:**

Many thanks to Vixen in Violet, atsik101, tigger79, wicked falcon, xXAngelStormXx, Excel Go Boom, trickstersink, predator808, GrayHuntress, backwaterplanet, The Last Abhorsen, syverasazyn, and AnimeDreama for favoriting this story and a big shout out to all the rest my awesome readers! Oh! And my super awesome Beta reader, too! How could I forget Krivoklatsko? You're the best Krivo!

I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter.

* * *

**Arachne**

* * *

Agent Harris reviewed the latest weekly reports from his security team, frowning at the details. Attacks by foreign government networks, Russia and China in particular, were becoming increasingly regular over the last few weeks. Mega-corporations were hiring new bands of hackers every day in an attempt to breach Weyland Industries' grid and glean anything at all about "Project Arachne." Weyland Industries though, was a red herring.

"Project Arachne" was digitally isolated from its parent company and all other networks. If reports were filed with Weyland, they were discussed in person in a sealed room. Any hard copies of information brought were sealed inside a vault, and only the head and the vice president possessed the codes needed to unlock it.

Keeping the facility and its staff a secret on the other hand, was a much more challenging task. Several scientists were suspected of being tracked by enemy operatives, and one staff member was under scrutiny after taking data back to his apartment. Although the man claimed he had taken it home to work on it and that it wasn't his intention to compromise the project, the matter was still being investigated.

Harris sighed and glanced at his silver watch to see how much time had passed before he moved on to the paperwork. It was a piece of technology considered archaic by some in this day and age, but Harris was a practical man. Sometimes simple was better.

A quiet knock on his door reminded him that Dr. Megumi Nakayama had said she would be delivering her psych evaluations of his security teams this afternoon.

"Come in," he said, doing his best to straighten up his desk and give the stacks of papers some semblance of organization. Using so much paper in the year 2027 was something he was readjusting to.

"Sorry for the mess," apologized Harris when the doctor removed a file from the chair across his desk. She smiled and replied that it wasn't a problem. She laid the folder on his desk and then clasped her hands in lap.

"So, how'd they do? Anyone I should be worried about?" he asked as he glanced through the files.

"No, Mr. Harris," she said, an easy smile lighting up her face. "They are all in top mental health. There is minimal group friction and, other than the day to day stress of life, they are completely capable of doing their jobs."

Harris nodded, satisfied. He needed good news, especially now that the final preparations were being made to secure the treaty. _More like selling our souls_, he thought grimly as he thought about the situation humanity was embroiled in. The governments of the United States and key allies had quietly agreed to the terms the aliens had offered after months of quiet yet intense debate. Things wouldn't have gone so smoothly were it not for two alarming incidences and a disturbing trend from the last two decades.

Legends of demons and monsters that haunted tropical jungles and disemboweled men had largely been ignored by all except the supposedly superstitious locals, until a Special Forces team was almost wiped out in Val Verde. The military managed to keep things quiet until Bouvetoya and Gunnison. Weyland's founder and a team of specialists were slaughtered during what was described by sole survivor Alexa Woods as a rite of passage ritual gone bad. Apparently the "serpents" that the aliens hunted had managed to get aboard a smaller craft left behind and caused it to crash near the city of Gunnison, Colorado. Although the public was told the destruction of the city was the work of terrorists, the U.S. government was actually responsible. Official bullshit and jargon aside, the city had been deemed "infected" and subsequently purged.

Kidnappings of soldiers, mercenaries, violent criminals, gang members and sociopaths, apparently the work of a much more bloodthirsty and sadistic clan, had begun happening around the same time. The rate of kidnappings had sharply increased with each passing year, particularly during major conflicts. During the Second Korean War hundreds of soldiers from the U.S., the Koreas, and other countries were believed to have been abducted.

The choice the alien ambassador offered had been simple: submit or be annihilated, either through negligence or a slow genocide. Submission meant access to technology other than handguns and spears. But it wasn't guaranteed, not without a symbol of the two species union, something which was particular to this group of aliens, who required blood ties in order to seal alliances. That was where Weyland Industries came in.

Harris' thoughts reminded him of something he'd been curious about lately.

"Thank you for these, doctor," he said. "There's just something that's been on my mind."

"Yes?" answered Nakayama. She didn't seem perplexed, he noted, perhaps because she was used to hearing about others problems.

Harris put the papers down and folded his hands. "The woman, Vasquez. What's her mental status? I'm asking because I need to know for security purposes if she's stable, and frankly because it's one less thing I have to worry about when the time comes for the trade off."

The small smile on Nakayama's face faltered, and then disappeared, her expression becoming distant and thoughtful. When her eyes met his, he could see they were filled with a mixture of worry and sympathy.

"The experience had caused her to suffer flashbacks from the recent war, mostly due to the trauma of the experiments and the shock she underwent after her transformation. I diagnosed her with acute stress disorder."

"Should she be a concern of mine?" Harris asked bluntly. Nakayama shook her head slowly.

"All she needs is time to recuperate."

"I heard she went into a state of shock after she woke up. Tried to fight off doctors then suddenly went catatonic," Harris said, then regretted his choice of words. By the amused look on Nakayama's face he could tell she knew he didn't understand a thing about pyschology.

"What exactly is acute stress disorder? Is it like PTSD?"

"Yes, the two are related, but ASD is less severe and is easily treatable," she explained. "You may have heard rumors that when Tyler awoke she lashed out at doctors and tried to escape," she added, waving her hand in dismissal. "She did no such thing. Due to the trauma during her unanticipated awakening, she was disoriented. The initial shock of her altered body and physical appearance caused her to slip into a depressed state for several days and experience flashbacks."

"How is she now?"

Nakayama smiled, her cheerful personality bubbling back to the surface.

"Better. Communication is difficult, but we're making progress. I'm teaching her coping methods in case she ever needs them in the future."

Harris nodded. "Thank you for clearing that up, doctor. I apologize for being so blunt. Sounds like she's in good hands."

Nakayama's face turned somewhat serious as she said, "She is strong, Mr. Harris. Stronger than I would have expected her to be. I just hope she can hold onto that strength."

"So do I," said Harris. And he meant it.

"Speaking of which," Nakayama said, her smile returning. "It's about time I go see her today. So, if that's all you need..."

Harris thanked her and shook her hand before she left. After Nakayama closed the door, Harris pulled out his data pad and studied Vasquez' file once more, deep in thought. _Alejandra "Tyler" Maria Mencia Vasquez_, he read silently. The entire fate of the human race rested on her shoulders. Harris prayed Nakayama was right when she had called the young woman strong.

* * *

**\|; |, \-'**

* * *

Several floors underground, Tyler watched as red swirls rose from her coffee cup, the heat curling and twisting in lazy patterns till they became faint violet before dissipating altogether. The room she sat in was washed in shades of red and purple. She'd turned off the ceiling light, annoyed by the sickly orange haze it'd cast about the room. Tyler left only a couple lamps on since she'd discovered she didn't need as much light to see. She'd never realized how many shades of red there were or how much heat was being radiated around her. The air conditioning suddenly kicked in and Tyler watched what looked like dark purple waves falling into the room, turning the nearest wall and floor a dark burgundy.

She took an awkward swig of her coffee, her mandibles gripping the sides of the porcelain cup as best they could. Without lips, drinking had become an embarrassing chore. She'd spilled more drinks on herself and the floor than she had her entire childhood. Eating was also an experience. She quickly realized she could no longer stomach anything sweet, the rich smell and taste of sugar as tongue numbing and overpowering as a jalapeño pepper, minus the spiciness. Meat, she had quickly realized, was the only thing that seemed to truly satisfy her, although she occasionally nibbled on bread or something bitter.

Tyler's sense of smell had been altered as well. The scientists had explained to her that the sensory organ used to smell was located in the roof of her mouth, protected by the cartilage and bone of her upper jaw and face. It was extremely sensitive. Tyler was still adjusting to all the smells bombarding her, particularly those wafting off the people around her. She was quickly learning to distinguish between individuals by smell and could sometimes sense a person who she couldn't yet see.

Footsteps from down the hall alerted her that Megumi had arrived. Tyler shifted on the couch, anxious. Visits with her psychologist were the only thing she could honestly look forward to; the rest of her time she spent eating, sleeping, exercising or enduring another endless round of tests. Although the nightmares and depression had faded after the first week, she was still finding it difficult to cope with everything that had happened.

Megumi entered then, a ray of sunshine to Tyler's dark mood. Tyler greeted her with a nod which she returned. This form of greeting had eventually been settled on by both after they quickly realized how difficult it was for Tyler to speak. Without lips and entirely different throat structure to master, Tyler's ability to communicate verbally had been severely limited for a couple weeks. Over the last few days she'd learned to carefully enunciate words she could physically pronounce; otherwise she wrote what she wanted to say on paper.

"How are you today, Tyler?" Megumi asked, settling in the one of the chairs around the coffee table. Although Tyler thought of her as Megumi, she couldn't pronounce the psychologist's name. Instead, she called her "Naka".

"Good," replied Tyler. Her voice, while not exactly deep, often sounded like she was gargling when she spoke.

"Tell me about your experiences since we last met," Nakayama prompted as she pulled out her writing pad and settled into her seat. Tyler reviewed the last three days, trying to remember anything distinguishing about them.

"They are… the sssane as last tine," said Tyler slowly, wincing inwardly at how hard she was still hitting her consonants and hoped Megumi didn't think she was hissing at her.

"How are you feeling lately?"

Tyler shrugged while staring down her hands, pretending to study their strange patterns and colors. Megumi's brow furrowed in thought as she rested her chin on her unclenched fingers. After a moment of silence Tyler finally spoke.

"I…" she paused, faltering. She couldn't say "miss". _Damn m's_, she thought as she grabbed her data pad and stylus. The pad's brightness allowed her to see the words she wrote since ink and lead were too faint.

"You miss your family," read Megumi. The psychologist tapped her lip with her forefinger as she leaned on the armrest, thoughtful for a few moments.

"I know we've talked a lot about Sonya— your youngest sister— and your other siblings, but we haven't spoken much about your mother."

A slight pain gripped Tyler's chest at the mention of her mother. She nodded in response but said nothing. She knew the subject would have arisen eventually.

"Tell me about your relationship with your mother," Megumi urged gently. Tyler thought hard on where to begin.

"She stood… against dad. Sssaid to go away. Took care…," Tyler concentrated on choosing her words, trying to get them to make sense. "I grow… I…"

Frustrated, Tyler grabbed the pad and began scribbling furiously, emotions she'd been holding close to her heart beginning to pour out. Every so often she would hand the pad to Megumi, erase it and write more.

She told her about how her mother had thrown their drunk and abusive father out and worked hard to make sure they had enough to eat and a roof over their heads. Rather than go to school, Tyler had signed up for the military when war with North Korea had been declared, delaying college against her mother's wishes, so that she could help provide for her sisters. But it had also been for selfish reasons, Tyler wrote. Tired of living under her traditional mother's rules and religious customs she left to discover herself. She changed her name, got a tattoo and embraced the world. The war though, taught her hard lessons real quick. She grew up fast and learned the value of family from her fellow marines. When she returned home, she had tried to repair the damage. Her mother had been slow to forgive and had occasionally blamed Tyler for causing Emilio to run off with a gang.

_I was a disrespectful child. I was always criticizing my mother and fighting with her. I don't even remember why. After the war, things became better between us, although we still disagreed on certain issues._

Megumi handed back the pad to Tyler and removed her reading glasses before asking, "If things were improving, why volunteer for the project?"

"Sssonya… getting sssicker. An' I wanned to… get back E-Enilio," replied Tyler. She'd told Megumi these reasons before. "Alssso… tu… tuner." Megumi handed her the data pad. Tyler wrote three words. She hated those words. They'd haunted her. She hadn't figured out a way to tell her family. Weyland Industries had offered her a way out. A way to die with purpose.

"Inoperable brain tumor," murmured Megumi. "I'm sorry, Tyler."

Tyler shrugged.

"Your mother," said Megumi, "She really misses you. She's grateful for what you gave to your family."

Tyler's hands trembled slightly and she could barely hold back the emotion in her voice as she asked how Naka could know such things.

"A friend told me."

Tyler heard the sincerity in Megumi's voice and for a long while she couldn't speak. Her stomach began to hurt and her vision blurred as she remembered her mother's voice, her delicious homemade empanadas, her tired eyes as she returned from her second job, the stubborn resolve she realized she'd inherited from her. The memories washed over her, both good and bad. After long moments, when she felt she was somewhat in control of her voice again, she managed to say thank you. Megumi smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

"You're welcome, Tyler."

_I kept her name_, Tyler wrote suddenly. Megumi cocked her head at the sentence, slightly puzzled.

_Her name. Vasquez. Technically I should be Mencia, after my father, but I kept hers._

Megumi smiled and nodded again as she read Tyler's sudden confession and Tyler felt in her heart she had finally unburdened everything weighing her down. They spoke for a little while longer, delving to into a variety of lighter topics ranging from current events to movies. After Megumi had gone, Tyler lay back on the couch, thinking of the past. It was a bittersweet revelation for Tyler as she found herself finally grateful for all her mother had done for her, but unable to tell her. She dozed off, having finally found a brief moment of peace in her chaotic world.

* * *

**\'/ /'- ;|,**

* * *

Agent Harris was discussing a lead on a case file with an advisor when an agent interrupted him, saying he had an urgent call from the CIA. Harris stepped into an adjoining office, away from the stares of agents and technicians stationed around their computers.

"This is Harris," he said into the receiver.

"Jorgenson," said an unfamiliar voice.

"What happened to Kasinki?"

"Death in the family. We'll be calling him in shortly, but that's not important," said Jorgenson. "They're here."

"What?" asked Harris, not sure if he understood right.

"The final stage of Project Arachne is about to unfold," Jorgenson replied.

Harris' confusion was instantly replaced with a grim determination. _The bastards have finally come for their prize_, he thought.


	5. Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

Once again I must heartily thank my awesome beta reader Krivoklatsko. Without him this story would be in terrible disarray. To my readers please read and review and feel free to message me if you have questions.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**(Clicks are represented by apostrophes)**

**I'aqin – **EYE' uh-kin

**Hetarrak – **Heh-TAUR-rack

* * *

**Sunrise**

* * *

Tyler's eyes snapped open at the sound of footsteps down the hall. She sat up slowly, brushing her long dreadlocks aside as she checked the time. Hazy, scarlet letters read 3:27 a.m. from across the room. Something wasn't right. Something didn't smell right, either. Tyler stood when she heard the security scanner on her door activate. When it admitted two security agents, her suspicions were confirmed. The nearest agent gestured at a worn, brown satchel on her nightstand. Wary but obedient, Tyler flipped it open and scooped in what few keepsakes she had. An acrid scent filled her mouth. It was coming from the guards she realized. She did her best to keep her mouth shut as they ushered her out.

After riding up five floors and making their way through a maze of hallways, the trio finally arrived in a closed off parking garage. Several black SUVs idled in the darkness. Without a word, the agents ushered her into one. The car sped forward as soon as the door slammed shut behind her, throwing her against the leather seats. As she struggled to sit up, Tyler realized she wasn't alone. Across from her sat another agent, pen twirling in his left hand. Like everyone else, his skin glowed golden; and his short, cropped, balding hair shimmered pale orange. He seemed much calmer, as if he'd seen and done this a hundred times.

"Hello, Vasquez," he said when he saw that he had her attention. "My name is Agent Harris."

Tyler nodded. She'd heard of him. Megumi told her he had ordered that she stay in the lower bunkers and kept isolated from most of the staff. He didn't trust anyone, she'd said. Then Tyler realized something.

"Donde está Naka?" Tyler asked quickly, realizing a half a second later that she'd spoken Spanish. Harris didn't miss a beat.

"Home. The call to move you came unexpectedly." He said it without much sympathy, it seemed to her. Tyler sighed. She had wanted to at least say goodbye to the woman who had helped her through so much.

"Before we reach the drop off point, there's something you should be aware of," he said, leaning forward. "We found your brother."

Tyler blinked in surprise. _Emilio_, she thought. They'd finally found him.

"He's part of the MS-13, working as a drug pusher and smuggler. We tracked him down after he suffered a couple gunshot wounds and ended up in a hospital."

This news did not surprise her. Emilio had been involved with gangs since he was young, enjoying the camaraderie and excitement that came with defying local authorities. With an absent father and hardworking mother, who denied that her God-fearing son would ever do such things, Tyler watched as her younger brother became consumed by gang life. He claimed he did it to help the family whenever Tyler had confronted him, and retaliated by accusing her of being a lazy slut and an ingrate. For some reason, mama always saw Emilio's side. Tyler pushed aside her bitter thoughts, trying to focus on the happy memories between her and Emilio. They were few and far between.

Tyler gripped her seat cushion and braced herself for the worst.

"Isss he alrrright?" she asked. Whatever the man across from her was thinking, he didn't let it show.

"We sent someone down to deliver the news of your sister's upcoming surgery," he replied, avoiding her question. "You understand that your contract with the company will neither protect nor justify your brother's criminal actions in the future. It was hard enough keeping the DEA and local police away."

Tyler nodded. She expected nothing else. All she wanted was to give her brother a second chance, and with her gone and the family grieving, maybe he might see the light. If he didn't then it was his own damn fault. She leaned back into her seat and gazed out the window for a moment at the moon swept landscape, the rolling desert glowing in its pale light. She wondered how much time she had before she literally disappeared from the face of the earth forever. That she would never see her family again was hard enough to accept, but leaving Earth and humanity was something else entirely. Everything she knew and loved was here. She admitted humanity was sometimes a selfish, unscrupulous race, driven by the chaotic winds of misfortune and despair. Tyler had seen enough human suffering and killed enough men to understand that. But she'd seen cowards become heroes and learned the lessons of hope during her darkest hours. When the hail of bullets and mortars had paused long enough for her reflect one night she had been surprised to find her faith in redemption and God was still there, stronger than ever. She'd never been able to put it into words, not even to the chaplain of her squad.

She glanced over at the head of security as he talked quietly into his com system. She felt she had a right to know everything now. Megumi always avoided her questions. Maybe this Agent Harris would shoot straight.

"Agent Harrisss," she said slowly, when he had finished. "What… isss thisss? Why… isss therrre a… treaty?"

Harris gave her a cool stare, as if annoyed by her persistent asking of questions.

"That's classified," he said.

"What?" Tyler growled, "What the hell do-"

"You need to get something straight," he said sharply, cutting her off. "This is much bigger than your personal issues."

A low rumble settled in her chest as she glared at the agent. She watched as his eyes narrowed. After a few tense moments he leaned forward slightly.

"I'm not here to answer your questions, Ms. Vasquez. I'm here to make sure the transfer goes smoothly," he said, his words laced with a warning. "I work for Weyland. I protect its interests, and you happen to be its current interest."

Tyler gripped the leather seats as hurt and anger flooded her body. There was nothing in his eyes or body language that told her he was lying. What he said was the truth, every word. She'd been naïve to believe the man who'd locked her away for weeks would care about anything other than his job.

Suddenly, the vehicle decelerated, and they both swayed as the SUV swerved sharply onto a back road. Rocks crunched and popped beneath the SUV's tires as it cruised over the dirt and gravel. When she looked out the windows again she saw they were headed toward an abandoned testing facility, a faded blue "W" just visible along one of the crumbling concrete and rusted metal walls. The convoy pulled onto what might have once been a landing strip, forming a semicircle.

She looked back at Harris, his cool gaze still focused on her.

"What… now?" she asked.

"We wait," he replied. Before Harris could say anything else, Tyler was out the door.

Grass sprouted through cracks and dust skittered across the concrete and around her bare feet as she gazed at what would be her last glimpse of her home world. A cool wind whistled across the dusty plain and she breathed in the strange scents it carried, glad to be outside after being cooped up for so long underground.

"Dammit Vasquez!" shouted Harris as he climbed out of the car, shock gun in hand, "What the hell are you doing?"

Tyler ignored his ranting and focused on the sky. It was colored a deep burgundy, so dark it almost looked black now that they were far from the city. Bright stars glittered across the sky in a variety of colors, ranging from white to red.

Two agents suddenly grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back towards the SUV. Tyler watched as Harris' skin flushed brighter.

"Stay inside until the exchange," he ordered. His cell chirped, sparing her from having to listen to him anymore. Back inside the cramped vehicle she tried to make out what he was talking about, hoping for a clue.

"Harris… Yes… Yes… Where are they?... Well, what does that mean?... Fine," he said before disconnecting.

"They've just entered Earth's atmosphere," he said to another agent. She watched through the tinted windows as men scurried into position, checking their weapons and testing their com-nets. Tyler clutched at her stomach, suddenly sick with anxiety. She clasped her hands together and pressed them against her bowed head and prayed. She wished she'd done that more often the last few weeks. A burst of red light distracted her. She squinted as she watched sunlight flare over the horizon and cast a pink blush across the clouds racing across the sky.

But before Tyler could even whisper a prayer of gratitude, a ship roared in from above, shaking the air and kicking up dust as its thrusters guided it to a landing only a few dozen feet away, blocking the light of the newly risen sun.

Harris shouted for the men to stand down and stay back. When the dust began to settle, Tyler's mandibles flared slightly and she gasped at what she saw. The sleek craft was covered in intricate designs that pulsed as heat radiated off the arrow shaped hull. With a start she realized the ship in fact wasn't even touching the ground, hovering barely a foot above it. A small slit formed on the side of the hull, the wall of the ship hissing open as a walkway slid down. As the panels parted, she saw a crimson figure covered in black armor standing at the entry way, flanked by two other figures carrying large shields and silver swords clasped to their hips. As they made their way towards the convoy, she could see powerful muscles rippling beneath the skin, their long, graceful strides quickly covering the distance between their ship and Harris.

A man quickly opened the door, motioning for her to go to where Harris and the warriors stood. The aliens dwarfed Harris and were at least a head taller than her. Her infrared sight could not penetrate their dark masks as they watched her approach. As soon as she stood next to Harris, the lead warrior stepped forward and roughly grabbed Tyler's forearm. With the other hand he pricked her with a strange looking device, and she watched as a thin trail of luminescent blood trickled from her arm. He continued holding her arm in his vice like grip while the little device blipped and flickered with strange symbols. After a few tense moments the warrior seemed satisfied, but he didn't let go of her arm. At an unspoken signal, the warrior to the right punched in a command on some sort of wrist computer. The ship hissed and several compartments opened along its side, mechanical arms lifting strange looking artifacts from within and setting them on the ground before retracting. Harris turned and barked orders for several of his men to retrieve the items.

Tyler returned her attention to the strange warrior who gripped her arm, appearing to stare intently at her through that menacing mask of his, as if everything else around them held no meaning. She returned his stare, hoping she looked braver than she felt. Her eyes took in the strange, elegant design on the center of his helm and the sweeping, ridged crest that ran around the edges. Grooves and whorls decorated the sides of the mouth and high cheekbones. She could see nothing behind the large, glassy eyes that stared back at her.

A shrill warning blared from his wrist computer attached to the arm that held her. A growl emanated from the warrior as he finally let her go and tapped the device. A hologram of Earth appeared; floating next to it, a large ship. Spiked fins sprouted from its back and sides, giving it the appearance of a poisonous fish that might prowl the ocean depths.

With a sharp bark, the warrior grabbed her arm and dragged her after the two warriors already making for the alien vessel. She thought she heard Harris shout 'good luck' before she was hauled up the ramp. Before the doors shut, Tyler caught a glimpse of the convoy as it roared across the desert, kicking up clouds of dust as it sped off with the aliens' gifts. The warrior abruptly pulled her away. They quickly crossed a small circular chamber, the warrior growling when Tyler tripped over the raised floor. A hologram floated in the center of the dais and she could see the other two aliens at the control panels to her right. The one gripping her arm led her into a side hallway, opening the first door he came to. Without a word, he shoved her inside. Tyler stumbled to floor, but quickly stood up and ran back as the door shut. She pushed and clawed at it, finally punching it in frustration.

* * *

**\|: -\; |,' -/**

* * *

Auran faced the small hologram projector in the center of the bridge. They had timed their meeting specifically so as to avoid notice by their enemies. He turned his attention to the hulking craft as it drifted along the southern hemisphere of the world, its hull was covered with crude symbols of blood and death. He turned back to the bridge.

"Hetarrak, break atmosphere and head for the jump point as soon as possible," he ordered. He received a growl of acknowledgement from his pilot. Their craft was small and agile. They could easily outmaneuver whatever the enemy fired at them, Auran thought while he watched the sensor readings scroll down the screen as they monitored the enemy vessel. He began to breathe easier once they'd passed the planet's dead moon, grateful that their ship had been deemed of little consequence. It was likely most of those on the ship were out on raiding parties on the planet's surface. He frowned and glanced back at the central hologram behind the bridge.

"That ship shouldn't be there," he finally said. I'aqin clicked in agreement, but said nothing. Hetarrak looked back at the hologram before he answered. "It is not the season for them".

"Something isn't right," growled Auran. He turned to I'aqin.

"When do we jump?"

"Soon," I'aqin replied.

Auran grunted in satisfaction and went back to the hologram to study the enemy ship. It wasn't long before his thoughts drifted to the female on board as he glanced in the direction of where he'd placed her. He crossed his arms, clicking in agitation. She was going to be troublesome, he could already tell, no matter how much she looked like any other female of his race. He attempted to clear his thoughts of her, but it was futile. It had been easy not to think of her when she'd been on another planet. Now she barely a few paces away. He pressed his forehead against his fist, sighing in defeat. He selected several glowing keys and opened the security sensor panel.

Auran watched her as she paced about the room, obviously agitated. She went to the door, her hands sliding along the seams as she tried to get out, hitting it when she grew frustrated. After a while she gave up and lay down on the mat in the corner. Auran then realized someone was behind him. He quickly flicked off the viewing screen.

"What?" he growled as he turned to face I'aqin.

"Nearing system's edge. Five minutes to jump," said I'aqin, ignoring Auran's glares.

Auran sat as Hetarrak entered the necessary codes and waited for confirmation from the home planet authorities. When the confirmation was granted, I'aqin punched it. White noise filled the air for a moment, the entire ship vibrating softly as the ship warped through time and space. Auran lost his sense of hearing and closed his eyes to keep the nausea at bay, his body feeling heavy and distorted. He'd never enjoyed warping. After several hours the ship burst into real space, shooting towards the home system. With a trill of satisfaction, Hetarrak set a course for Ashann. Auran grimaced at his friend's good spirits and checked on the female. She was awake, but hadn't moved from the bed. Satisfied, he cancelled the connection and left the bridge. Meditation would help clear his thoughts.


	6. Tempest

**Author's Note:** I must credit my two classes of Japanese for my inspiration for the Predator words "yes" and "no". Sign language will be italicized.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Ashan'ii – **ah-shah-NIGH – people of Ashann, named after the slain warrior-priest Ashann

**Ganja – **GAHN-jah – the leaves of this plant are smoked and induce a mildly relaxed state

**The God's Sword – **A weapon of righteousness judgment; some warriors believe a part of their spirit is transfused into their swords and connects them to the God. It is occasionally used as an innuendo.

**Heqsa – **HECK-sah – a potent alcoholic beverage

**Iyan – **ee-YAHN – no/ never; formal; also used for emphasis

**Saa – **SAH – Yes; an affirmative

**Yan –**YAHN – no; informal

* * *

**Tempest**

* * *

Tyler slumped against the cool wall with legs crossed, tired of staring at the same four dark walls. She'd curled up on stiff mat in the corner, dozing until the ship had filled with a strange white noise and the walls began trembling. The strange sensation had continued for what felt like a couple hours. She'd managed to doze off a few times since then.

Tyler eyed the bag that she'd dropped after being unceremoniously dumped into her cell before leaning forward and yanking it across the floor towards her. An extra pair of black shorts. A tank top. A bottle an oily lotion for her skin. Tyler reached in for the last item she'd managed to grab, her dog tags.

The silver metal jingled as she carefully lifted them out. She cradled the tags in her open palm, tracing the lettered grooves punched into the surface of each. She wasn't a very sentimental person when it came to objects, but her tags reminded her of that time when she'd discovered the best and worst in herself. They were symbolic of strength, and she needed to be strong. Now more than ever, she thought as the tiny beaded strands slowly pooled into her hand. Tyler threaded the necklace around her neck and snapped it into place. She quietly clicked with momentary satisfaction.

Boredom drew her eyes to the strange designs carved into the walls when she noticed something odd. On the left side of the door frame ran a thin slit several inches long. She hadn't noticed it before, she realized, because it was a part of the jagged, arcing engravings set into the doorframe. Tyler stood and moved towards the door. She knelt to examine the slit and hoped she wasn't mistaken as she raised her left index finger. She hesitated for just a moment and then slid her claw down the slot. The door slid open without a sound and Tyler stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, savoring her small victory.

Her excitement quickly melted into caution as she glanced down either end of the hallway, unsure of which direction to take. She faced the door in an attempt to orient herself and remembered she'd come from the left. Clutching her dog tags to keep them from jangling, Tyler quietly crept down the hall and paused when she came to another passage. She peered around the corner and was rewarded with the familiar sight of the circular main room, only this time a hologram pulsed at its center. Tyler edged around the corner, staying close to the wall, her gaze fixated on the image of an alien planet silently floating in the air. Large storms swirled across its southern seas while huge volcanoes spewed molten rock in the west. Several vast rivers snaked through the continents and numerous islands lay scattered across the oceans. Three moons orbited the planet, one of them possessing is own ring. Tyler could see the outline of immense cities set within the planet's equatorial jungles. Strange symbols flickered around the planet and she could only guess at their meanings. As she circled the hologram, the bridge came into view. A lone figure to the far right had his back turned to her as he focused on the ship's controls. Beyond him, through the viewport, lay a scarlet horizon, the ringed purple moon rising above the darkened side of the world, the same one as in the hologram. It was beautiful, Tyler thought, wondering what it might've looked like through human eyes.

Before she could move closer to get a better look, a strange musky smell stopped her. Tyler whirled around at the sound of a low growl. The other two aliens stood behind her not four paces away, watching her. Tyler realized the one growling was the same one who'd dragged her onto the ship, his mask firmly attached to his hip. He looked displeased, to say the least. Tyler crossed her arms and turned towards to the hologram. She was not going back to her room, she thought. The other warrior trilled in amusement even as the one who growled at her gave him what she could only assume was a sour look. The amused warrior left his brooding companion for the bridge and Tyler watched as the planet filled the viewport of the ship.

The warrior followed his companion after a moment. She could feel his stern eyes measuring her as he prowled past, the tension in the air palpable. He growled something in his guttural tongue to his shipmates. She watched as the two warriors nodded, as if acknowledging his orders. He must be the mission leader, Tyler concluded. He carried himself with pride, his face a mask of seriousness. She'd probably offended him. He caught her staring at him and she quickly looked back at the hologram.

In the next moment he was beside her, and Tyler hoped she hadn't done something wrong. She looked up at him and into his eyes. They gave away nothing as he quickly looked away and gestured at the passage that led to her room. She shook her head and stepped away when he tried to reach for her arm. With a growl, the warrior stalked off in the direction he'd indicated, returning a minute later with her bag in hand. He dropped it at her feet and strode away without a sound. Tyler stared at her bag, surprised. When she slung it over her shoulder she could tell her clothing was inside. She looked around for the warrior, but he was nowhere to be seen. With an inward sigh, she turned back to look at the hologram only to watch it dissolve into bands of light and disappear completely. The chamber lights dimmed as the ship pierced the atmosphere, and Tyler moved closer to the bridge in order to get a better view. When the ship broke through the clouds she could see they were headed for one of the gleaming cities. Massive stepped pyramids with flat tops rose above the misty jungle, while skyscrapers connected by long arching bridges soared above. Dozens of small rivers wound their way through the city. Plazas and gardens dotted the cityscape, some suspended between several towers.

Tyler realized her mouth was hanging slightly open, and abruptly shut it. As she pulled her mandibles together, an amused trill informed her she'd been too late. She glanced at the warrior sitting at the central control panel that'd caught her and quickly looked away, slightly embarrassed. She couldn't read their faces very well, but if she had to guess, she'd say he was smirking at her.

The ship descended into an open tower and came to a gentle rest inside a docking facility on the outskirts of the city. As strange symbols flicker across the controls, the sound of approaching footsteps from behind warned her that the other warrior had returned. Tyler turned, suddenly aware that she had no idea what would happen next, since no one had told her exactly why she was being traded. With a swift flourish the warrior wrapped a long, dark cloak around her shoulders, then gripped her upper arm and pulled her alongside him, the other two warriors following silently behind. Tyler managed to get glimpses of exotic alien vessels of all sizes landing and leaving the port, the rumblings of their engines drowning out all other sound. The acrid stench of unfamiliar chemicals burned her throat as she was hustled into a small corridor. The warrior gripping her arm stopped at the door and punched in what Tyler assumed was an access code. Then the floor suddenly dropped from beneath her.

Tyler yelped and grabbed the stern warrior's arm hold. She immediately realized they were on an elevator, and quickly stepped away from him. Another amused trill came from behind and Tyler felt the skin around her eyes and forehead begin to burn from embarrassment. It was just like at the lab. She had constantly bumped and tripped into things because of her dramatic height and weight increase. The elevator doors hissed opened to reveal an expansive, relatively empty archway, and in the distance Tyler could see a thunderstorm rolling over the jungle city. She was hastily ushered outside and into a smaller ship. Once seated, the agile craft immediately sped towards the city, the night sky and buildings becoming dark blurs through the opaque glass. Rivulets of rain began streaming across the viewport, highlighted by flashes of lightning. But the pilot, the smaller one who had kept quiet most of the time, ignored these things, expertly navigating between buildings. Tyler's stomach jumped as the sleek ship banked hard, rapidly slowing to land.

The ship doors retracted and she was led out. Violent winds tore at her cloak while heavy rain pounded the ground and Tyler struggled to see. The warrior suddenly let go and faces and scents she didn't recognize pulled her away. Unsure of what was happening, Tyler resisted and turned back, only to watch as the warriors that brought her here turned away and boarded the ship. The strangers' hands pulled her back as the craft sped off into the dark swirling clouds. She choked back her anger and let the strange hands and voices guide her through the mist, concentrating on keeping her balance as she was hurried along the slick, muddy paths. The violent flood of rain soaked her cloak, hindering her movements as it clung to her legs and arms. She stumbled over some roots, but pushed on, ducking and weaving as the dense foliage closed in around them.

Finally, her guides stopped beneath the low branches of tree with broad leaves, clicking and chittering as they struggled with something on the ground. The mossy earth slid away, revealing a spiral staircase below. One of her guides clambered down, ushering Tyler to follow her. The other guide slipped in after her and sealed the entrance. After carefully making their way down the stairs, Tyler was shown into a dimly lit room full of shelves glittering jars, instruments and charms.

One of them continued down another flight of stairs while the other hovered around Tyler, clicking as she looked her up and down. She peeled off her cloak, tossing it into the hallway with a soggy splat. Tyler realized both were females. Their voices were higher pitched, they were small, like her, and their crests around the top of their heads were different, less pronounced somehow. She was too tired and too cold to resist when the female began stripping off her shorts and tank top. Suddenly, the second female appeared next to her, offering a hot drink, hazy swirls of heat curling above it. Tyler closed her eyes in pleasure as the spicy mixture heated her throat and belly. Without warning, dizziness overtook her. Tyler felt herself being lowered into a soft bed and a blanket draped over her body. It was the last thing she remembered before a wave of lights and sounds exploded in her head, dragging her consciousness into the depths of her mind.

* * *

**-'/- \'| -',-**

* * *

Lightning slithered across the sky and thunder ripped through the air. Torrential rains slammed into the viewport, driven by howling gales of cold mist. The storm season was coming to a particularly violent end. The weather did not improve Auran's mood as he watched the storm rage outside. He and I'aqin had taken refuge in Auran's dwelling after dropping off the female into the care of the Thousand Blades' best healer for an in-depth examination. Auran folded his arms, a low rumble settling in his chest at the thought of her.

Her smell, alien and feminine all mixed into a single strange and alluring scent was still on him. It clung to him like a second skin. Her defiance bordered on disrespectful. When he'd discovered her out of the room he'd grown angry, but I'aqin's presence had made him hesitate. He uncurled his fist and looked at the strange necklace he'd taken while wrapping the cloak around her shoulders. She'd touched these unadorned pieces of metal several times, as if to reassure herself. It had been necessary to take it, he reminded himself. No one outside of Shaidra's tight network of confidants could know what she was. Why he insisted on the pre-bonding rituals though, when time was of the essence, irritated Auran. Shaidra, at the urging of his first wife no doubt, decided he could not risk offending the God and Goddess and ordered Auran at the last minute to bring her to a trusted ally. The elder would instruct her and prescribe the necessary purification rituals she would need to undergo before bonding and mating with him. Mating, he thought, his thumb rubbing absently against one of the flat metal rings of the necklace as he stared into space. It had been so long since he'd held a female, since he'd touched smooth flesh, felt their soft hands and the heat of their—

Sloshing liquid interrupted his thoughts. He let out a shuddering breath, grateful for the distraction and turned towards his friend I'aqin who was pouring himself a glass of heqsa. Auran looped the necklace around his belt as he sunk to the floor opposite his friend. He grabbed the jug and poured himself a drink as well, wincing as the tart liquid burned his throat. I'aqin poured him another, sipping his drink while Auran knocked back a second. After Auran's third, I'aqin broke the silence.

"Speak," said I'aqin, his voice serious even as his face remained impassive. He was deceptively casual, Auran noted. The arm that held his drink rested across a knee while the other supported his relaxed posture. I'aqin came from a line of silent, brooding warriors known as the Hidden Daggers. They preferred surprise attacks to outright combat and were trained in contradictory body language to throw off political rivals. Things were never as they seemed when engaged with a Hidden Dagger warrior.

"What should I say?" replied Auran as warmth began to spread from his chest into his limbs. I'aqin growled. Auran sighed in frustration. Seven cycles he had known him and yet he still could not tell if I'aqin was displeased or merely affirming his confusion.

"Speak," demanded I'aqin.

"Why?" Auran growled, before taking another swig of heqsa.

_All storm season long silence_, signed I'aqin. Auran glanced down at his drink. He had withdrawn into himself after Shaidra had broken the news that fateful night. Only a few days ago he had asked his friends to accompany him as honor guard, finally explaining everything.

"Hetarrak should be here," he said, hoping to delay the issue.

"And so he is," answered the youngest of the trio as he sauntered over and sat between I'aqin and Auran.

"Hmm, you didn't leave much," he said while he watched the last of the alcohol drip into his cup. I'aqin rumbled in greeting before finishing his drink. Auran simply stared into his empty cup while Hetarrak warbled loudly in satisfaction after taking a sip.

"I'aqin signaled me, said I should forget the ship and get my ass over here if I knew what was good for me," he explained between gulps. I'aqin growled in disagreement.

"Well, I'aqin didn't exactly say that, but I'm sure that's what he meant," said Hetarrak even as I'aqin huffed in disdain. Hetarrak ignored him. The taciturn I'aqin and the lighthearted Hetarrak, thought Auran as he watched the two of them. They brought balance to his life and were one of the few connections that tied him to the home world. Without them he might've left to wander the stars for good long ago.

"Auran, what's troubling you?" asked Hetarrak, leaning in towards him. Auran sighed, a hand running over his crest.

"I haven't been fair to either of you," he replied, "I should not have dragged you into Shaidra and the councilors' schemes."

Hetarrak shrugged and took another sip. I'aqin said nothing. Auran folded his arms and leaned them onto the table, his voice laced with frustration.

"It's just… she is not what I expected," he said.

"Hmm? How so? I mean, I was expecting her to be some weird hybrid with mutations and four eyes and— Ow! What?" Hetarrak snapped, rubbing his shoulder where I'aqin had punched him.

_You talk too much_, he signed, growling.

"Then why'd you tell me to come?" grumbled Hetarrak into his cup. I'aqin snorted dismissively and turned his attention to Auran.

"What did you expect?" he asked. Auran closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the few brief moments he's spent with her.

"I don't know anymore, just… just not this. Not her," he said, "She's stubborn and strange and…"

Auran growled in frustration at his confused thoughts.

"Not yautja," I'aqin finished for him. The statement hung in the air like the thick smoke of ganja weed between them.

"If you don't want her," he continued looking Auran straight in the eye, "I will have her."

"But you already have two wives," protested Hetarrak. The older warrior ignored him, his cool gaze focused on Auran. Tension crept into the room and the only sounds were those of thunder and rain lashing at the stone walls.

"Iyan," hissed Auran. I'aqin acceded, inclining his head without looking away. A bemused Hetarrak looked from one to the other, before shrugging and leaning back into several pillows behind him, hands clasped beneath his head. I'aqin set his cup down as he sat up, crossing his legs. That was deliberate, thought Auran, pushing aside the haze of heqsa that was beginning to cloud his mind. He'd seen him do that once before. A foolish and drunken warrior had stumbled into their table and decided to stay. After I'aqin had set his glass down, exactly as he had just done now, he'd leapt across the table, slammed the warrior to the ground and pressed his blade against the warrior's throat. At the time Auran thought I'aqin's outburst unsettling. He'd struck without warning. But Auran knew better now. His friend was growing impatient with him. He'd set the drink before him intentionally, as a warning.

"I am trapped," Auran said choosing his words with care. "I thought by continually hunting the enemies of the Ashan'ii I could redeem my line's honor while avoiding the judgmental whispers that follow me wherever I go." Auran slammed his clenched fist against the table. "But no matter what I do, I am still made to suffer," he hissed. "How convenient that the God chose me to bond with the huunan's female."

Seconds trickled by as Auran waited for I'aqin's response. He couldn't tell how much of the warrior's patience was left. A part of him didn't care. Then, gradually, I'aqin folded his arms. Auran braced himself for the warrior to strike, but then he did something strange. I'aqin bowed his head for a moment. When he lifted it, all traces of tension were gone from his body. As Auran breathed a short sigh of relief, he realized some of the burden of his thoughts was gone, replaced with a quiet confidence. He would never understand the ways of the Hidden Dagger, he thought as he suppressed a small smile. Then Hetarrak spoke up. "I don't see why you're complaining. You can still hunt," he said still lounging on the floor. "And you get a female, a beautiful female in my opinion, to give you sons."

"By the God's Sword I would give anything to have a female," said Hetarrak in exasperation as he sat up. Auran covered his face with one hand and could've sworn he heard I'aqin mutter the word blasphemy.

"What?" asked Hetarrak glancing between the two of them. "What?"

Auran chuckled and shook his head, regretting the movement as a wave of dizziness washed over him. The full effects of the heqsa were beginning to kick in.

_Teach pup lesson?_, signed I'aqin. Auran waved him away, preferring not to get involved. He laughed as his two friends argued, Hetarrak digging himself into deeper trouble with every word, unable to understand why I'aqin kept glaring at him. What happened next, Auran wasn't quite sure as the full effects of the heqsa hit him hard, the world swimming before his eyes. But before he blacked out he could've sworn he saw I'aqin holding Hetarrak's head against table while he twisted his arm.


	7. Nightmare

**Author's Note: **"Noksha" is inspired by the Hindu word "moksha" (release from suffering and reincarnation). Also, I later learned that "ganja", a word I thought I had made up, is an actual term for cannabis. Hehe, no wonder the word fit so well.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**sha'oul **– shah-OOL – the first nine nights after the ceremony during which the bonded pair mates

**Ahandra **– ah-HAN-drah – corruption of Tyler's birth name "Alejandra"

**noksha **– a potent drink used in coming of age rituals, particularly amongst untested warriors

* * *

**Nightmare**

* * *

Blood pounded in her ears in time with her bruised feet as they thudded against the stone floor. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her lungs on fire. Run, she had to run. If she stopped, she died. She didn't want to die. She had to make it. Make it out of this monstrous hellhole. A howl ripped through the silence and her heart slammed into her ribs. She gave a weak cry of fear as her body shuddered, threatening to collapse. Her fear drove her forward as another howl echoed from behind. The twisting tunnels grew steadily darker and she fought down despair as she plunged headlong through the maze. She ducked beneath low ceilings, tearing through the webs of slime. Broken stones cut her feet, trying to trip her, but still she kept moving. She had to make it, had to make it out alive. Darkness seeped from the walls the further she went. Thick tendrils of slime clung to her as she scrambled forward. A sharp stone sliced her thigh and she stumbled to her knees, retching and gasping for air. A roar boomed through the tunnels. The thing was getting closer. She had to move, had to find the way out. Whimpering with fear, she crawled forward, dragging her wounded leg out of the sucking slime. The tunnel she entered angled up, dim light filtering through at the end. She struggled towards it, clambering up the slippery slope. A roar shattered her newfound hope. It was close, she thought, panicking, it was too close. _Move now!_ she shouted to herself. She clawed her way up, ignoring the pain in her legs and feet. Whimpers escaped as she tore through the layer of slime and slithered up through the narrow hole. She slid out, tendrils of slime flowing off her body. It felt like they were tugging her back down the hole. Horrified, she tore at them, kicking and crawling away. The effort sapped the last of her strength and she collapsed. She sobbed in frustration and despair when her body refused to go any further.

Suddenly, her cries ceased. A noise? Something was in here with her. Struggling, she lifted her head, her eyes darting to every shadow of the large antechamber, an eerie glow from above dimly illuminating the floor on which she lay. Holes like the one she'd climbed through dotted the base of the walls. Horror washed over her as a sudden realization took hold. Each hole like the one she'd climbed through led to the center of the labyrinth. Terror gripped her as one of the shadows melted into a hideous humanoid, red eyes blazing with hatred. Futilely, she struggled to get away, mewling in fear. The monster slowly moved towards her, clicking and chittering as it flexed its blood soaked claws. Before she could even scream the creature pounced and grabbed her by the throat. She clutched weakly at its powerful arm as it slowly lifted her into the air and crushed her throat. Then she looked into its eyes.

_No!_ she screamed inside her mind. _No! No! No! NOOOO! _She squeezed her hand tighter around the pathetic creature's neck, spreading her mandibles and roaring in rage. Its eyes bulged and mouth opened in a silent scream. After several long moments, its twitching stopped and she dropped it to the floor. She stared at herself, dead on the floor.

She'd killed herself. She was dead and she'd killed herself.

* * *

**-'; \'**

* * *

Tyler's eyes snapped open, her heart hammering in her chest so fast it felt as if it would burst. Her chest heaved as she sucked in several shuddering breaths in an attempt to remain calm. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to remember how she came to this place. Monitors covered much of the walls. Small sharp-edged blades and alien devices lay neatly on the shelves while mechanical arms with tools attached to their ends hung from the ceiling above her. She winced as red light hit her eyes. The beam traveled down her body, scanning. She didn't know what was going on, but this did not look like a place she wanted to be. Tyler struggled to sit up, hissing as pain lanced through her. Her body throbbed in several places and Tyler glanced down to see her skin covered with fresh scars, a few of them torn and bleeding because she'd moved. Just where the hell was she? Why couldn't she remember? Tyler's head snapped up at the sound of voices from down the hallway. Whoever had done this was coming back. And from the look of things, they weren't finished with her. She swung her legs over the cool stone slab, goose bumps crawling across her naked flesh.

As soon as her feet hit the floor, she knew something was wrong. A wave of dizziness washed over and she grabbed the edge of the slab to hold herself steady. She moaned as a sharp pain filled her head. Three blurry figures raced to her side as she fell. Then everything went dark.

* * *

**| -'/-**

* * *

Tyler awakened, slowly. She lay nestled inside her fur cocoon for a long time, dozing on and off as she listened to the sound of the wind whisper through leaves. Her eyes fluttered open at the eerie warbling of a strange bird and she poked her head out of the covers to see where it came from. Bright sunlight made her wince and duck back under the soft folds of fur. She had never been much of a morning person, she thought as she rubbed her eyes. Tyler flexed her fingers and toes, then tested her limbs, satisfied that most of the soreness had disappeared. She gingerly searched her body for any scars or injury, her fingers lingering on a wide scar across her abdomen. She poked her head out again, blinking as her eyes adjusted. Clutching the silky fur covering against her chest as she sat up, glancing about the strange yet familiar room, although she was sure she'd never seen it before.

Warm sunlight seeped in through the circular opening of the domed ceiling high above, its rays filtered through the wispy leaves of vines that had crept in from the outside and down the curved walls. Snaking leafy tendrils brushed against elaborately tiered shelves carved into fantastical looking creatures, every nook and cranny filled with beautiful urns and glowing jugs. Dried herbs hung from both ceiling beams and thick trunks of vines filling the air with the scent of warm spices. A cool breeze carrying the scent of rain hissed through the opening above followed by the sound of distant thunder. Tyler sniffed the air again, clicking with curiosity until she caught the pungent smell of roasting meat. The force of the smell was like a punch to the gut and Tyler felt her mouth begin to water. It wasn't the wisest thing to try, but she was starving. And quite honestly she was sick of waiting around for something else to happen to her.

Still clasping the piece of fur to her chest, she slowly rose to her knees, then feet, watching for any sign that she might pass out again. After a moment, she quietly padded across the smooth stone floor, peering through the rounded entryway to determine where the crisp, meaty aroma was coming from. Sunlight spilled onto a wide spiral staircase to her right, the scent of wet earth carried by a warm breeze coming from somewhere above. To her left ran a short, curving hallway and a quick sniff told her that was where the mouthwatering scent was coming from. Despite her stomach's incessant moaning, she made her way down the hall cautiously. She could hear someone moving, the sound of bells tinkling in time to the person's shuffling gait. Her stomach growled and she growled back. That damn smell was intoxicating. She took a deep breath and entered the room.

A fire crackled to her right, an animal roasting over a slowly turning spit, fatty grease dripping off its flesh and hissing as it fell into the fire. Workbenches lined the walls, bowls of powder and herbs piled upon them. A hallway sloped off to her left. Its general lack of smell other than an acrid sterilizing agent told her it led to the surgical room. All these things she noticed in a few seconds. Tyler was slightly unsettled by how keen her sense of smell had become.

The sound of bells jingling from beyond the room grabbed her attention. An alien dressed in loose robes entered, a large pouch of sloshing liquid tucked under an arm while a hand pressed against the wall for balance. The bent, shuffling female clicked irritably when it saw her. She set her burden beside the hearth and proceeded to poke the fire and the meat. Upon closer inspection, Tyler realized she was very old. Her skin was covered in wrinkles, skin sagging across her already small eyes. Her dreadlocks were pulled into an elaborate yet loose bun. Tiny bells woven into her skirt tinkled at the slightest movement. She strode around the room, grabbing wide bowls and a platter and setting them on the extended part of the hearth. The elder knelt, lifted the roasting animal off of the fire, then set it on the center plate, before spooning a thick sauce over the meat. As she poured a sweet smelling liquid into cups from the sagging animal skin Tyler's stomach moaned.

"Are you going to stand there all day hungry or eat?" the alien growled as she sliced off hunks of steaming meat and set them on her plate. Tyler stared. She'd understood what the alien was saying. The elder ignored her, delicately tearing off chunks of meat with her fingers and swallowing them. Tyler wrapped the fur pelt around her as she sat still staring at the old woman. With an irritated huff the old alien set down her food and looked up at her.

"Did you lose your hearing?" she asked.

"I-Iyan…" answered Tyler hesitantly.

"Did you swallow your tongue?"

"Iyan."

"Then why do you not eat?"

"Because I can understand you," said Tyler.

"That has nothing to do with you not eating," the elder clicked as she tore off another chunk of meat.

"I'm speaking fluently in another language," said Tyler, slightly amazed and confused. "Which is impossible."

The elder huffed and continued to eat. When no reply was forthcoming Tyler asked, "What happened? Who are you?"

"I will say this only once, Ahandra, and let this be your first lesson. When you are given food, eat it," she said. "As for who I am, I am the one who gave you a voice. Now be silent."

That said, the old alien sipped her drink, ignoring Tyler completely. A low rumble welled up in her chest but she quashed it. She wondered what an "ahandra" was as she reached for the meat. All questions disappeared from her mind after her first swallow. She could taste the food from her mouth all the way down her throat. It was a sensation she still wasn't used to, but that wasn't what distracted her. The food was mind numbingly delicious, the hot meat almost melting on her tongue. Her stomach gurgled for more and she tore into the meat greedily, accepting a second helping from the old one without question. When she'd had her fill she chugged down the milky brew in her cup, her tongue curling at how sweet it tasted. She sighed when she finished and leaned back on her hands. The elder huffed as she stacked the dishes and set them to the side on the hearth.

"You eat like a male. No manners, noisy and always wanting more," she said. Tyler looked down, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she said. The elder huffed again and waved the apology away.

"You've not eaten in three days. Had you eaten less I would've been insulted."

"Three days? I've been asleep for three days?"

"You ask many questions," growled the elder, her gaze serious. She ordered Tyler to stand in the center of the room.

"Leave the blanket," ordered the old one when Tyler began to stand. Reluctantly, Tyler folded it and moved to the center of the room. She didn't feel as modest considering her breasts were nonexistent, which was rather depressing now that she thought about it.

Two young females entered then. One picked up a bowl full of glowing liquid while the second sat at one of the work benches and began mincing fragrant smelling herbs, sprinkling them into small basin of water. Tyler noted both performed their tasks in almost absolute silence. The elder stepped forward and took Tyler's right hand in hers, massaging and turning it over, examining for something only she could see. The old one's hands slid up her arm as she walked behind her. She brushed aside her dreadlocks as she poked and prodded her back and hips. When she faced Tyler again the elder cupped her face with her hands and bent her head down, examining the top of her head, tracing her spiked crown. Tyler realized during this that it was one way to tell the difference between females and males. Males had long, wide crowns while only the front half of females' heads were bare. The spikes around the edge of their crowns were fewer and longer.

"Your name no longer surprises me. I can see the scars and strength of your body that proves you were a warrior," the elder said as she examined her chest and stomach.

"My name?" asked Tyler.

"Saa, Ahandra, it is very masculine sounding," she replied, gesturing towards the other female to bring the basin of sweet smelling water over. The girl washed her feet and legs, the other filling a device with a needle at the end with the glowing liqiud.

"What is that?"

"Always questions with you," the elder sighed behind her as she wove metallic threads through her hair.

"You must be purified. The tattoos will last for the duration of the sha'oul," she clicked.

"What is—"

"By the Goddess, child. It is the nine nights following the day you are bonded," rasped the elder in irritation.

"It is not my fault I do not know anything of your culture," snapped Tyler. She shivered as the girl began to tattoo her flesh, the glowing liquid cold beneath her skin. The elder threw her hands in the air and walked out of the room, muttering what sounded like curses. The two girls around Tyler's legs chittered and whispered for a moment, now that their mistress was out of the room. In a moment the elder returned with a basket full of jewelry. The two girls bent their heads down as they continued to work on her legs, but Tyler could tell they were paying close attention to the old one.

"My arrogant son is taking a great risk having a creature like you here in our midst," she grumbled while sorting the items.

"Is your son the one who brought me here?"

"Yan, that was Auran'Drakenatharr, the last of an accursed line of warriors known as the Shadow Stalkers, and your future husband."

"My… husband," Tyler murmured. The angry warrior who'd dragged her across the universe, shoved her in a cell, and then abandoned her was going to be her husband?

"Although you will be bonded for life, it is paramount you give birth as soon as possible. If you do not, the bond will become undone and so will my son's plan," explained the elder. "I have stimulated your reproductive organs. For the next several days you will be extremely fertile. Do not waste that time."

Tyler wished she would pass out again. This was too much to take in. She reached up to clutch her dog tags but all she felt was skin. She felt around her neck, anxiety welling up inside her.

"My necklace, where's my necklace?"

"Child, you were not wearing a necklace when we brought you here."

Tyler stared at the ground while the two girls began to wash and tattoo her arms. She wasn't sure if the numbness in her body was from her loss or the cold ink being injected into her skin. After the young females finished with her body they bid her kneel and pulled a stool over for the elder. She sat and picked up one of the glowing tattoo devices, beckoning Tyler to lean forward.

"Close your eyes," she ordered. Tyler eyes watered as the cool liquid seeped into her eyelids and around her eyes. The elder took her time, trailing the glowing ink from between her eyes to each of the five spikes of her crest. When she was finished, she pulled the basket next to her, picking out various items. Bands and bracelets were slipped up Tyler's arms and legs while around her neck the elder looped thick strands of elaborate necklaces, tiny gems glittering in the firelight. Lastly, she wrapped a thin skirt made of shimmering chains about her waist.

"It is not much, but it will do," muttered the elder as she looked Tyler over. With a flick of her wrist she ordered her two acolytes to leave. The two bowed, gathered up the bowls and baskets, and quietly left.

"Before we leave, there are some things we need to discuss child."

Tyler waited as the elder began to slowly pace back and forth, her cloak swishing across the floor.

"The ceremony will be short. Time is of the essence. My son cannot go before the High Clan without the bond sealed."

"Sealed?"

"Until you have conceived. Although some may not recognize the legitimacy of the treaty unless you've given birth to a healthy child. Pray that you have a son. It will make things easier."

She cut Tyler off before she could ask another question.

"The priestess will bless you and ask you how long you are to be bonded. Because you have no kin you will speak for yourself." The elder grabbed Tyler's right hand and turned her palm face up. She quickly slid her fingers across it. "She will cut your palm and drain some of your blood to mix with your mate's. After burning the blood, your hand will be tied to his. Once the bond is forged the sha'oul will begin," explained the elder.

Tyler nodded, flexing her right hand. At least she didn't have to kiss him in front of a bunch of people. The thought of kissing sent a shiver up her spine. She would be doing more than kissing. The realization that she would have to hold someone she didn't even love sent a pang of regret through her and she turned her face away so the old one couldn't see the frustration she knew was etched into her face. She clenched her fists as she swallowed her fear. Nine days, she told herself. All she had to do was make it through the next nine days. She'd been through worse experiences. She would be okay.

"You were given a drink when you arrived here, a potent mixture to induce a vivid dream state," said the elder, interrupting her thoughts.

The nightmare raced through Tyler's head and her heart sped up a little. "You mean the nightmare?"

"Before entering adulthood, warriors drink the noksha. It is in here," growled the elder as she pointed two fingers at Tyler's forehead. "That the true battle is waged. The dream is for you alone to interpret, Ahandra. Pray that the Goddess grants you the sight of understanding."

"Why do you keep calling me that? What is an "ahandra"?"

"It is your name, foolish child," she huffed before shuffling out of the room.

Tyler sighed and sat by the fire, staring at the dancing flames and pulsing embers. Ahandra, she said to herself, rolling the word over in her mind, Ahandra, Ahandra, Ahandra. It didn't sound masculine to her, she thought as she fiddled with a bracelet. She scrolled through the list of things she'd learned from her conversations with the elder. She was to wed the warrior named Auran, who probably despised her. It was imperative that they have a child. And both events were part a plan concocted by the elder's son, whoever he was. Probably the one behind the treaty with Earth. She could see how Weyland Industries and humanity benefited from advance technology. So what was in it for these aliens? What was so important about her having a baby and why keep it a secret?

Tyler puzzled over these things until the elder returned with a dark cloak which she wrapped around her shoulders. Tugging the fabric across her face, she followed the elder alien up the winding spiral steps. The two stepped into the shade of a large tree choked with vines. Beyond the low branches and thicket she could see a sleek ship within a clearing.

"Go child, it will take you to the temple."

Before Tyler could say anything the aged female had gone, aready shuffling down the spiral staircase beneath the great mossy tree. Tyler quickly made her way through the woods, jaw set with determination. As the transport sped off into the setting sun, Tyler vowed to find the answers to her questions, one way or another.

* * *

**\|/ ';- -|/ ', -|'**

* * *

Torches mounted onto pillars flickered high above the gloom, their light pooling about their metal holsters, unable to reach the cavernous ceiling. Beneath the feeble glow, shrouded in darkness, stood a hooded figure. He cocked his head every so often, searching for a sound. His patience was finally rewarded with a sword pressed against his spine. "You're late."

The sword tip dug deeper into his cloak.

"Defensive tonight, aren't we?"

The blade began to push into his flesh.

"Chrrartheq."

The pressure against his spine relinquished the moment he uttered the password. He smiled in amusement. Assassins were such serious creatures.

"You have news?" he asked. A tiny hologlobe floated in front of him. He grabbed it and tucked it inside his cloak, satisfied he'd be able to deliver something to his master tonight.

"I have a message for you," he said as he straightened his cloak. "Find the one called Drakenatharr. I want to know why the he is part of the Lord of a Thousand Blades' scheme."

He smirked at the sound of the assassin leaving. It was on purpose of course. Warriors of his caliber and pride never made a sound unless they wanted to be heard. He fingered the hologlobe as he left the shadowed chamber. Perhaps it contained news of one of their enemies' deaths. He hoped so.


	8. Dagger

**Author's Note:** As always, please review and let me know what you think. Thank you!

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Dralus –**DREY-luss

**Drakenivar** – drah-KEN-ih-var – swift blade

**hessla –**HESS-lah** – **a large, snake-like creature with two arms that end in razor sharp claws and a large mouth containing several rows of jagged teeth. It can inhabit a variety of environments and is known for playing dead after suffering grievous wounds, only to snap up its hunter-turned-victim at the last moment.

**hwar'ta **– HWARR-tah – a breechcloth usually worn over a shentai or, if female, by itself

**nivar** – nih-VARR - swift

**shentai **– SHEN-tie – a loincloth wrapped around the hip

* * *

**Dagger**

* * *

The soft whirr of gears as the machine worked pre-programmed patterns into his skin was the only sound in the dim chamber. Glistening droplets dripped from its metallic crevices, cool mist curling about his arm as the fluorescent dye seeped into his warm flesh, the ice cold liquid sending painful chills across his body. Auran flexed his numb fingers in an attempt to keep the blood flowing through his veins. The numbness seemed to soak into his bones. He'd been trapped on this planet for weeks; the only time he'd stepped onto an alien world was for the briefest of moments, not for the thrill of the hunt but to bargain like a slave trader. He'd chosen the life of a wanderer, a simple, uncomplicated path that kept him out of politics and appeased those who wanted him dead. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Iyeiden believed this was his chance at restoring honor to his clan's name. He recalled the way his guardian had looked at him, like he wanted to say more, but Auran wouldn't hear him. Now, as the ice cold probes of the machine cooled his temper and the moments ticked by he realized that a part of him wanted the elder's words to be true. The dead halls of his clan's fortress ringing with the sound of warriors teaching their sons how to wield dual ended blades, great swords and daggers filled his sight for a moment and pride swelled his chest before the icy prick of the machine fractured his concentration and the fantasy vanished. Auran growled. It was useless to dwell on what would never be.

Despite what Shaidra promised, Auran didn't believe it would ever be truly possible to restore his clan. The taint of its dishonor clung to him like a second skin, the weight of his ancestors' folly a sack of dead flesh dragging him to the depths of eternal punishment. A thousand disgusted faces sneered at him, circling like vultures. Even if he managed to survive the next few weeks, the warrior lord was as trustworthy as ravenous hessla. He had yet to reveal how Auran was suppose to achieve redemption, claiming Auran must prove he was worthy enough by first producing an heir. Auran snorted disdainfully. An outcast rogue coupling with a meta-hybrid; Shaidra was insane if he thought the High Council would back him. Despite what others thought, he was no fool. He knew he was being manipulated. What frustrated him was his lack of choice in the matter. Shaidra held his honor in one hand and death in the other. He wondered if the two choices were, in fact, the same. _It doesn't matter_, Auran growled. He would play the warrior lord's game. For now.

A soft metallic clinking noise caught his attention and he glanced down to see what his clenched fist had brushed against. The alien necklace hung from his waist, the dim lights' dully reflecting off the flat ornament's surface. Anger melted into confusion as the memory of the female. He should despise her, or at least be indifferent. But he was not and this troubled him.

His brooding thoughts were interrupted as the machine traced an intricate design across his shoulder blade and down his back. Auran suppressed the urge to shiver as the delicate needles crossed his spine. With a final stroke the machine withdrew, folding in on itself and retracting into the wall. He shook the stiffness from his muscles, grimacing when he noticed the swirling patterns crisscrossing his skin. Such garish displays would draw unwanted attention. It was like Shaidra wanted him to get killed.

Huffing, he ducked into the corridor, choosing a roundabout route consisting of back hallways, skywalks and winding stairwells. Lately, he'd been plagued by a gnawing sense of unease. Over the last few days he'd purposefully chosen alternate routes through the Singing Blades' territory, never taking the same one twice. A presence, vague and elusive, teased at the edges of his perception. It had become a constant source of stress, eating at his patience. Voices approached and he ducked into the shadow of one of the many stone statues lining the hallway, pressing against the wall and behind the stone warrior's shield, listening as an elder led a caravan of chittering young females past. His presence amongst Iyeiden's clan, the Singing Blades, was… tolerated. Auran had learned to stay out of sight at an early age, mastering the art of hiding in plain view or disappearing when he needed to. Such skills had saved his life on more than one occasion. When the sound of their voices faded he slid out from his hiding place and continued on his way.

If only he could outwit his shadower, he thought irritably as he crouched at the entrance to his dwelling and pulled out his lock picks. Gingerly, he unhooked the delicate wires hidden in the crevice of the door handle, careful not to disturb the pressure sensitive trap from injecting him with paralyzing venom. Sometimes a lock wasn't enough to keep enemies out. Once the trap was disabled, he pressed his palm against the cool pad of the security scanner, glancing over his shoulder while it tested skin patterns, DNA and body heat. The wide hallway loomed behind him; its dusty floors and cracked ceiling silent save for the whine of a lost insect tapping aimlessly into the walls. He clicked in agitation.

The smell of dead ash and smoke washed over him as he entered, the fire in the braziers and pit having burned out hours ago. It reminded him of the suffocating ash fields of an unnamed dying world on which the enemies of the Ashan'ii had made their home. Auran shrugged off the memories of that hunt before he remembered too much, deciding the chill of the room bothered him less than the stares he would receive if he tried to barter for more fuel. Other than his armor, weapons and bed roll, his room retained a spartan appearance that most of his kind would find unnatural. But he preferred simplicity to the stuffy and what he considered gaudy display of trophies and other luxury items. Decorating was a waste of time since he was hardly here anyways.

He lifted his ceremonial armor off the wall, pleased that he could almost see his reflection in its gleaming surface. Auran slid a dagger under his arm guard and a retractable blade into each of his shin guards. The weapons clicked into place, seamlessly blending in with his armor. Lastly, he sheathed his sword, the weight of it across his back comforting. He wrapped his shentai around his waist as he crossed the empty room, pausing before his clan's shrine. Two dead torches framed the black circular shield, his clan's blooding symbol carved into its obsidian center, the meaning of its serpentine script lost forever. He should destroy it, Auran thought absentmindedly while he tightened his armbands. It was an ever present reminder of why he suffered, why he would always suffer, for wrongs he did not commit.

Instead he swung his cloak around his shoulders and left.

* * *

**'/, /'- |'/-**

* * *

Blood red rays washed over the ebony temple as the first sun sunk into the horizon, lighting the crystal windows and towers with an inner fire that transformed the terraced structured into a smoldering volcano. A wide swath of jungle surrounded it, trees hundreds of years old towering above the dark green foliage, ancient sentinels guarding sacred mysteries. The thick undergrowth separated the holy place from the rest of the city, for there were no roads that Tyler could see leading into it. The fusion of technology and nature intrigued her and she craned her neck to keep the alien temple in view. The scene was lost as the craft banked sharply and she was thrown against her harness, the taunt straps digging into her shoulders. Around her the warriors began checking their weapons, lascannons on their shoulders humming to life. With a small shudder the craft came to a rest on one of the landing platforms tucked into the side of the temple. With quick, fluid motions the guards were on their feet and ushering her out. Three fanned out in small phalanx in front, two stood to either side of her and one brought up the rear. She rolled her eyes. Such an aggressive formation ran counter to the discreetness of previous moves. The head body guard, Dralus, jerked her into formation when he thought she moved too slow. She resisted the urge to growl and tear her arm from his grasp. Her face still stung from when she'd questioned the captain earlier about the moving procedures he'd laid out to the other warriors.

Her guardians led her into a side chamber. Dralus nudged her towards the altar and followed close behind while the other five took up positions outside. The soldier in Tyler began pinpointing exits and cover points in case of an attack.

As she approached the altar she saw the priest was sharpening a ceremonial knife with a river stone, the blade singing with each slow stroke. He stood behind a stone centerpiece which rested on a raised dais at the head of the room, a smooth basin carved into the center. Tyler tried not to think about what the basin might be for. A priestess appeared and set a small bundle of red cloth on the edge of the altar which she gently unwrapped, revealing a long slender dagger. No one spoke, the only sounds emanating from the two priests as they prepared and blessed their instruments, praying to whatever strange God or gods they worshipped. Boredom began to sink in as the minutes dragged on. She could sense the uneasiness in her guardian. The one called Auran Darkblade was late. Either that or he'd fled. Typical male afraid of commitment, she thought, half hopeful. Her suspicions appeared to be confirmed when her guardian received a call from his wrist computer.

"Dralus, you are only to contact me if something dire happens. What is it?"

"Djaidenasil, the second sun is about to set and he's not here."

"What?"

"Drakenatharr's not here."

A long silence followed. Dralus looked visibly uncomfortable.

"Contact the Singing Blades," the voice growled slowly, "tell them to find that bastard and—"

"That won't be necessary."

Both Tyler and the guard turned in surprise.

"Drakenatharr, you test my patience," growled the one they called Djaidenasil.

"Magnanimous as ever, Shaidra."

"You will show the Lord of a Thousand Blades respect," growled Dralus.

"Make me."

Dralus roared and pulled a short sword from his waist. Auran shifted sideways, hand gripping his sword handle, but did not draw it. Two guards rushed to Tyler's side and pulled her behind them. Before the guard could strike, the priest was suddenly behind him, pressing the jagged blade he'd been sharpening earlier against his throat.

"You will show the God respect first."

The guard's anger melted instantly and he slowly sheathed his weapon.

"Your warriors lack restraint, great Shan."

"It will be dealt with, priest. After you see to your duties."

Dralus glared at Auran one last time before waving the two warriors around Tyler away. She could hear the one called Shaidra berating the captain for acting out of place in the God's temple. But not for attacking, she noted. She glanced back at Auran to see what he thought of all this. The warrior unclasped his cape and tossed it to the side, his face impassive, almost bored. The possibility he was crazy flickered momentarily through her thoughts. Someone had almost tried to kill him and yet he didn't seem fazed. He avoided her gaze, staring at the walls instead. Insecurity flickered through her for a moment and she wondered if she looked ugly. She quickly dismissed the thought. It hardly mattered anyway.

Order restored, the priests motioned for them to approach the altar, Tyler to the right, across from the priestess, and Auran to the left, across from the priest.

"Who comes to be bonded?" intoned the priest.

"I, Auran'Drakenatharr, only son of Shoukaden'Drakenivar, last of the Shadow Stalkers," Auran responded. Tyler tucked away the information for future reference. She wondered if he was as much of a pawn in this as she was. The priest laid the blade against Auran's outstretched palm.

"How long do you swear to honor the bond?"

"Till death."

The priest sliced his hand, bright blood dripping into the shallow basin of the altar. The priestess took her knife then, laying it across Tyler's palm.

"Who comes to be bonded?"

Tyler hesistated, unsure of what to say. She quickly decided to mimic what Auran had said since no one had explained this part to her. She fought down the nervousness clinching at her gut and took a deep breath, remembering her new name just as she began to speak.

"I… Ahandra, first daughter of Clarisa 'Asquez."

From the corner of her eye she saw the warrior glance at her. The priestess didn't seem to care.

"How long do you swear to honor the bond?"

"Till death."

She flinched as the blade split her skin. Her blood spattered into the basin, mixing with his. The priestess loosely tied their bleeding hands together as the priest burned the offering. Tyler did her best not to gag as an acrid stench filled the air.

"You are bonded till death before the God and Goddess. Honor the bond," commanded the priest.

After the flames licked the basin dry the priestess removed the cord from their wrists and wrapped the ceremonial dagger in a red cloth. Tyler clenched her hands to keep them from trembling, wincing at the aching pain in her right. She couldn't believe she was this nervous. It was as if the weight of everything that had happened in the last several days was crashing down on her. As the guards began to form up around them she felt sweat beading across her forehead. The air suddenly felt stifling and she could almost feel the waves of body heat wash over her hot skin. By the time they were outside she was panting and the pain in her hand had intensified. Bright flashes of light began to warp her vision and Tyler realized something was very wrong. She fumbled for Auran through a fog of dizziness. A second later painful spasms ripped through her abdomen and she collapsed to ground, vomiting. A chorus of shouts and growls rose up around her. She was rolled to her side and found herself staring up into his face. Her words died in her throat as it began to close up and she fought to breathe.

"Stay awake!" he shouted.

She tried. Her body shivered violently, her right arm convulsing as painful spasms gripped her muscles. Her tongue felt like sandpaper and her throat burned. Strange colors streaked across her vision. It hurt to keep her eyes open.

A sharp sting across the side of her face jolted her awake.

"You must stay awake!"

She was being moved. She didn't recognize where she was. Her lungs were on fire and she couldn't feel her right arm anymore.

Another painful sting. The voice shouted at her to stay awake and fight. Tyler struggled to retain consciousness. Her lungs felt heavy and she couldn't move.

"Ahandra!"

_I'm sorry_, she tried to say.


	9. Sha'oul

**Author's Note:** I'd like to welcome all of my new readers. It would be awesome to receive feedback from ya'll and any of my regular readers who've yet to review.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Tcharr-** CHAR- (Note: If the "ch" is proceeded by a "t" it is pronounced like the hard "ch" in "charge" or "hatch") a false identity assumed by the assassin

**shan**- SHAHN- an honorary title meaning "Lord".

* * *

**Sha'oul**

* * *

The assassin watched the female collapse from the effects of the poison with distaste. His revulsion stemmed not from a sense of horror or sympathy for he had no use for such emotions. What he found repulsive was the method the would-be-killer had chosen. The toxin was more violent than deadly, usually reserved to inspire fear or revel in an adversary's painful and humiliating death. The female would suffer, but with a vessel so close at hand and the resources of the Shan she would survive.

His brow wrinkled behind his mask in contempt. The amateurism of it all offended him.

"Tcharr!"

The assassin turned when he heard the dead guard's name called. _Dralus_, he sneered. He didn't deserve the title of shield leader. Capturing the female's assassin would ensure the fool's honor would remain intact.

"You're coming with me."

The assassin nodded and fell in behind with two other guards as they raced back to the ritual chamber. The priest had lingered to clean and polish the sacrificial altar. He glanced up in confusion when the guards burst into the room, the polishing rag still clutched in his hand. "What do you want?" he asked, his brow furrowed in suspicion. He had not forgotten the shield leader's earlier outburst.

"You're coming with us, God servant," Dralus growled, unsheathing his sword.

"How dare you."

"Silence!"

Dralus slapped him with broadside of his sword. The priest fell, clutching the side of his face, groaning in pain.

"You," he said pointing to one his warriors. "Bind and drag this piece of trash to the dock. The rest of you begin searching for the priestess. Bring her back alive." Dralus nearly spat his last order, contempt lurking beneath the anger in his eyes. The assassin and the other guard grunted in acknowledgement, each darting down a different corridor, eager to be the first to catch the quarry and prove his worth to the shield leader. The assassin sprinted past bewildered priests, heading towards the female level of the temple. If Dralus possessed a speck of intelligence he would be demanding clearance and assistance from the temple guardians to find the rogue servant of the Goddess. He bounded down the stone and metal staircase leading to the Hall of Goddess, shoving past outraged priestesses, his piercing gaze sweeping the high vaulted chamber. None of the heat signatures matched the amateur assassin's. As he dodged past an aged priestess waving a sacred staff at him the assassin's helmet comm crackled to life and Dralus roared at the shield guard from the other end.

"The kalai is trying to flee into the jungle. Cut her off!"

It would take too long for him to make his way to the ground floor. Using temple scans he'd committed to memory he sped towards one of the numerous windows lining the western wall. Sangria rays bled through the crystal glass as the second sun dipped behind the horizon. He activated his lascannon's targeting system, the mounted gun humming with pent up energy as he charged towards one of the windows. White hot plasma shrieked from the lascannon, its kinetic force ripping through the crystalline structure. The assassin dove through the gaping hole and into the rain of crystal shards glittering in the superheated air. At the last second the assassin twisted in mid air, his feet and body slamming against the slanted temple walls. Wind roared past him as he picked up speed sliding down the slanted smooth walls. He flicked his wrist blades out, sparks flying as he dug them into its side to slow his descent. Just before he plunged over the edge he stabbed his wrist blade into the neck of a monstrous creature carved into the temple side, his body jerking at the sudden loss of momentum.

He hung there for a moment as he gauged the distance to the ground and then retracted his wrist blades from the beast's body. A grappling rope shot from his left gauntlet, triggered by specific nerve impulses and muscle contractions. The hook embedded itself into the stone creature's open maw, slowing his fall. He tucked and rolled as his feet hit the ground, coming to an alert crouch. The assassin slid a claw down one of the gauntlet's grooves as he surveyed his surroundings, the rope hissing as it quickly retracted back into its sheath.

The sensitive aural scanners siphoned through the hundreds of sounds emanating from the thick jungle ahead, the myriad calls of droning insects, bird cries and gurgling creeks fading as the sensors honed in on the footsteps and ragged breathing of a young female fleeing for her life. The assassin darted into the undergrowth, instinctually masking his footfalls and blending with the darkening shadows. The chase would not last long; she was running blindly through the forest. The assassin picked up the sound of additional pursuit nearby.

"Tcharr, do you see her?" demanded Dralus.

"Not yet."

"Remember, Shaidra'Shan will want her alive."

"Understood."

The assassin picked up her trail along the muddy banks of a small stream, the freshly laid footprints leading into the murky water. It was too easy. Years of training made him hesitate for a fraction of a second. _No_, he thought to himself. He was over thinking the situation. This wasn't a true assassin or hardened warrior; his target was an irrational female with no self-defense training of any kind. He turned away from the marshy bank, instead taking a roundabout route through a thick forest of giant ferns. He jogged through the undergrowth, the aural sensors picking up the sounds of the priestess' heavy breathing as she slogged through the water, fear sapping her energy and common sense. He ran ahead till he came to a place where the water shallowed and clambered up the trunk of an ancient tree whose roots burrowed into the side of the soft bank. Its thick trunk leaned over the water's edge, its flexible branches dipping into the cool stream below, weighed down by numerous large, flat leaves. He crouched and waited, listening as the female drew closer and closer, the sounds of pursuit driving her forward into his trap.

Darkness engulfed the jungle by the time she stumbled into view, the same knife she'd used to poison the Shadow Stalker's female clutched in her right hand. Her voluminous robes had been discarded; all that remained of her clothing was her supplicant's hwar'tai. The assassin watched as she approached the tree, a brief flash of annoyance flickering through his mind at the simplicity of it all. He fingered his own knife strapped to his thigh, before suppressing the urge. He would kill her later.

As soon as she was close enough he silently leapt from his hiding place and tackled her into the water. Her howl of fear was cut off as she plunged into the water. She kicked and struggled in vain to free herself, but his weight and strong arms pinned her against the muddy bottom. The assassin threaded his fingers through her hair, jerking her to her knees, her scream of pain a muted gurgle as she coughed up water, gasping for air. Her dagger was no longer in her hand; she'd dropped it in the water when he'd ambushed her. The footfalls of half a dozen other warriors drummed through the forest, closing in. If the assassin wanted answers he needed to be quick.

"Whom do you serve?" he hissed into her ear.

"The Goddess."

He tightened his grip and the priestess winced, her breathing labored.

"Don't be coy. Who ordered you to kill the female?"

Before she could answer, Dralus, the other shield guards and two temple guardians dropped into the creek bed. The guard leader ignored the assassin, his focus instead on the female who'd made him look a fool.

"You have defied the Lord of a Thousand Blades. And he is not merciful."

He looked up then, finally acknowledging the assassin.

"Bind her and bring her to the ship."

* * *

**'/, \|- /;**

* * *

Tyler opened her eyes and found herself in a strange room. She should have been used to it by now, waking up in strange places, but it was still disorienting. Also not surprising but still exasperating was the fact that she was naked. She knew she had vomited on herself, but they could have at least put something new on her.

Memories of her near death experience abruptly came flooding back and Tyler closed her eyes, swallowing to try and relieve the sudden tightness in her throat. Again, she'd somehow managed to survive. Just like that time in Pyongyang, just like the endless experiment at Weyland Industries. She sat up then, rubbing her eyes and smoothing back her dreadlocks as she too in her surroundings. Tyler's relief morphed into a mixture of dread and awe and for a half second she wondered if she'd woken up in some sort of alien hell.

Jewel encrusted animal skulls grinned at her, their spines screwed into the walls, supported by bleached ribs warped around black metal. Flames licked the air from their open jaws, casting spheres of bloody light about the room. Above, a domed ceiling pulsed with an inner light, the bones of some hideous creature writhing within it fiery walls. Across the room a small fire hissed and flickered, light and heat streaming from the round fireplace, the thick circumference of its mantle carved into two serpents consuming the end of the other's tail. Polished wall carvings depicting two vicious warriors decorated either side of it.

Tyler drank in this atmosphere of death, its foreboding nature chilling whatever optimism she felt at being alive. It was a grim yet necessary reminder. The wonder of technology and civilization of this world was mere pretense; beneath its veneer lurked a savage race possessed of a barely constrained bloodlust and indecipherable expressions.

Agitated, Tyler slipped off the furred pallet and searched for the door. She hated the room, hated its dark beauty and its preoccupation with death. She'd had enough of death.

But as Tyler looked around, she could see no sign of a door. The violent panels wrapped around the entire room, the blank spaces between the carvings seamless. Frustrated but not defeated, Tyler examined each carved scene for any sign of a door handle and access point, recalling how she'd managed to escape her room aboard the alien ship. She circled the room, sliding her claws along suspicious crevices and pushing against any raised pieces of metal. Hope fraying, she came to the last panel by the fireplace, desperately clawing at the artwork. With a hiss of anger she punched the metalwork, immediately regretting her stupidity as her hand began to throb. She brushed her mandibles over her aching knuckles as she took a step back, hoping if she paused to examine the walls she might see something she'd missed.

_There has to be some way out of this godforsaken place._

As if in response to her thought, the panel she'd just examined slid away and Tyler wished she could take it back.

"You," she whispered.

The warrior stepped into the room, the brief flash of surprise already gone from his face, replaced by a brooding seriousness.

"You should be resting."

"I want to go out," Tyler said, moving in front of him. _Damn, he's tall_, she thought, doing her best to appear confident. Her confidence nearly evaporated when she remembered she was naked.

Auran stared at her for a moment, then slid his claw down his gauntlet and walked around her.

"Iyan."

Tyler watched the door seal shut and she rounded on him in frustration.

"You've no right to keep me here."

"On the contrary, I have every right," he replied as he unclasped his cloak and hung it on a small rung extending from one of the panels. "And even if I were to let you wander, I am under orders."

"Whose orders?"

"Shaidra."

"That's the second time I've heard that name. Who is he and why is he so interested in me?"

She watched impatiently as Auran stripped off his arm guards and hung them up before setting to work on his chest piece.

"He is the lord of Kuuroch and the one who arranged for us to be bonded."

"Why?" Tyler asked, taking a step closer. "Why go through all that trouble? Why not just find someone of your own species?"

Auran didn't answer. Instead he walked over to the mound of fur that was the bed and sat, quietly undoing the straps of his shin guards. Tyler folded her arms and looked away, growling. As the moments ticked by, the silence deepened and with each piece of armor he shed Tyler grew more and more anxious. She turned away and stood near the fire, rubbing her arms as she stared into the flames, its heat licking the edges of the mantle. But even the hypnotic dancing of the flames could not keep her mind off of the inevitable.

_Bonded._

The word sounded hollow in her head. And not just bonded, bonded for life with no way out. Bonded to the one called Auran; a brooding, incomprehensible figure who appeared to hate the situation as much as she did. They were both being used, so why wouldn't he open up? Then she realized he was calling to her.

"Ahandra."

She turned, still hugging her arms to her chest, more for comfort than modesty since she had no breasts to speak of. He stood in front of the fur pallet completely undressed, waiting for her. As always, his amber eyes gave little away, but this time she could not hold his piercing gaze. Despite herself, her eyes ran over his body, her gaze jumping away and back to his lower half. She wasn't sure if she should be pleased by the fact that he was aroused. Dark flesh overlaid thick cords of powerful muscle and she knew she didn't have a chance of resisting him. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she took her first faltering step forward. She willed herself to keep moving, ignoring the urge to curl up in the corner and hide.

_No_, she told herself. It was too late to have doubts, too late to feel sorry for herself. She'd chosen this path and she would face it head on. Despite the decision, her heart raced inside her chest and her palms felt clammy against her skin. She cursed at her weakness and forced herself forward.

Step by agonizing step, as if the floor were made of glass, she walked towards him until only a hand span of empty air separated them. Her gaze slowly traveled up his muscled chest, lingering on his strong neck before traveling up to his chin and over his exotically gruesome mouth. She took a deep breath and forced her eyes to meet his, inwardly trembling at the barely restrained desire she found within their depths. She somehow found her voice, although it barely rose above a whisper.

"I don't know you… but you're the only person I can trust…" Her mouth went dry and she couldn't finish. She tried to start again, the words dying in her throat as he gently gripped her hands, pinning them just enough to where she couldn't uncross her arms. In the depths of his amber eyes emotions flitted by, too quickly for her to read before they receded. His touch exuded a careful restraint. For a moment she was taken aback, recalling the rough, careless grip he'd used when they'd landed on this world. Instead of anger she felt his desperate desire seeping into her skin through the heat of his palms. He bent his head down then, nuzzling against her neck and she shivered as his mandibles caressed her skin. His breath washed over her skin in shuddering whispers and she realized he was breathing in her scent. She remained perfectly still as his hot body pressed against hers, letting him do as he will.

As he pushed her down into the furs she withdrew into herself, praying that in the end she'd made the right decision.


	10. Priestess

**Author's Note: **So while I brainstormed new names on Rinkwork's Fantasy Name Generator (probably _the_ best name generator out there) I was inspired to create a time keeping system, a map of the solar system and several new characters. All of this new information made me realize that a mini-pronunciation guide wasn't enough. Heck, I wrote all that stuff and sometimes I can't even remember what I said. Starting with this chapter, all the names and words from previous chapters will be listed alphabetically on my profile.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Ak'nandei –**ahk'(kih)NAHN-day – a very formal way of saying thank you

**Asharah –**ah-SHAR-ah – high priestess of Kuuroch

**Iren –**EYE-ren – the smaller sun of the binary star pair which Ashann orbits - means "light" and carries a feminine connotation

**Irenthi –**eye-REN-thee – a female sect which focuses on the balance between the spiritual and physical, with a smaller sub-sect emphasizing the equal forces of the God and Goddess and applying the ideal to male and female relationships

**Sjaienthess –**sjai-EN-thess – Iyeiden's second name - literally means "smooth throat", but best translates to "silver tongue" (the "Sj", or "shuh" and "juh" sounds, blend together)

* * *

**Priestess**

* * *

The Great Hall resounded with the thunder of the arbiter's hammer, silencing all debate on the matter until the next meeting. Iyeiden pretended not to notice the menacing glares his rivals burned into his back as he walked away from the floor, confident that his words would delay any serious consideration of renewing the trade agreements between the cities of Kuuroch and Uskenthsa until enough time had passed.

The coup initiated by the Storm Riders occurred less than a month ago. Since then, the young clan had continued its struggle against corrupt arbitrators and greedy merchants while trying to restore dignity to a broken populace that chafed at being lead by outsiders. Compounding the Storm Riders problems was their young leader's lack of experience. So far the clan had resisted in-fighting, but the tangled mess of blood bonds and treaties would test its wisdom. Iyeiden believed Kuuroch should only consider negotiating with Uskenthsa if the new government proved themselves worthy of recognition. There was no point in trading with a corrupt and dying city.

He nodded to a few of his colleagues, hoping he'd earned their support. His position was not a popular one.

He made his way through the flow of bodies, the watery murmur of voices following after him as he descended the ebon stairwell. Iyeiden caught the swelling voice of his rival Taqar, his passion overflowing as he tried to convince others to support the Storm Riders. To him, their act of defiance and courage was enough of a reason to strengthen trade agreements. Iyeiden ignored him and continued to the main hall. As he drew near, he was surprised to find the archway crowded. Harsh clicks and hisses bit at his back as Iyeiden pressed through the rumbling crowd, wondering what in the God's name could have caused such a commotion. When he finally broke free of the jostling onlookers he nearly swallowed his tongue.

A female stood at the center of the domed rotunda surrounded by a contingent of temple guards blistering with heavy armor and powerful lasguns. Viridian silk cascaded off her shoulders, pooling onto the floor around her bare feet. Golden bands inscribed with sacred scriptures decorated her arms and legs, the polished metal gleaming in the dancing firelight trapped in the glass columns. The symbol of her sect and rank was tattooed into the flesh of her forehead, a midnight blossom surrounded by a burning star.

She was Asharah, High Priestess of Kuuroch and one of the last people Iyeiden wanted to see in public.

Iyeiden quickly regained his composure and strode towards the line of guards. It was a simple misunderstanding. Perhaps she hadn't received his message.

One of the bodyguards stepped forward to block Iyeiden, the warrior's hand on the hilt of his sword. Red dots from several lasgun targeting systems skittered up his body until each found either his head or section of his chest. If things went badly, there wouldn't be much of him left.

"Step back or die," the black clad warrior growled. The symbol for 'rage' was carved onto his otherwise featureless mask. Iyeiden didn't move.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. I must speak with the Goddess' servant," he said, trying to keep his tone as even and respectful as possible.

"I will do you the honor of speaking to the Goddess herse—"

"Enough."

The regal voice of the high priestess froze the guard.

"Stand down and let him in. He is the one we came for."

The red targeting dots disappeared and "Rage" released his grip on his weapon. Iyeiden could feel all eyes upon him as he stepped into the inner ring, the echo of his footfalls breaking the shocked silence. Someone began to chatter eagerly to their neighbor. Whispers morphed into murmurs, which grew into an excited rumble. By the time he faced the priestess it had it had reached a dull roar.

"May the life of the Goddess fill you, Iyeiden son of the Singing Blades."

"May the God's shield protect you, honored servant," Iyeiden said, bowing his head in respect.

"I know you are wondering why I am here," she said.

"Saa, I did not expect your presence," replied Iyeiden, suspicion knotting his stomach. His surprise placed him on the defensive. It seemed she had received his message and decided to take the initiative and confront him. The Goddess' servant was smarter than Shaidra gave her credit.

"Circumstances demand swift action. I cannot allow the stain of corruption to settle within the temple walls."

_Dammit Shaidra,_ thought Iyeiden. His capture and retention of the priestess broke so many laws that not even the Shan could expect to avoid punishment by the arbitrators. Of course he expected Iyeiden to tie up any loose ends without complaint.

"I understand. The Whirling Scythes seek justice as well."

"You are a Singing Blade, yet you represent another clan?" she asked, raising a quizzical brow.

"I arranged the bond on behalf of my charge, Drakenatharr. Because of his ancestry I felt obligated to take on the responsibility of answering for what happened."

"You adopted the Shadow Stalker?"

"Yan, I am merely his guardian."

"I thought it was forbidden for any to bond with the Shadow Stalker," she commented, half to him, half to herself.

"It is more of a cultural taboo. It was the same way with the remaining warriors of the Red Fury clan in the western city of Jaul."

"May I suggest taking our conversation to a more secluded location?" he said when he noticed his rival Taqar eyeing him and the priestess.

"I do not like secrecy," Asharah replied as she followed Iyeiden into the northern wing, "But it appears the circumstances demand it."

Several guards kept at a discreet distance behind the pair, the rest fanning out and scouring the area for any signs of potential threats.

"How much do you know?" Iyeiden asked as he glanced over shoulder, making sure they were far enough away from prying eyes. The menacing presence of the guards assured a small amount of privacy.

"That Auran, son of the Shadow Stalkers, was to be permanently blood bonded. The priestess tried to kill his mate with a poisoned knife. In the ensuing chaos, the presiding priest was wounded and taken into custody. The priestess fled into the jungle where she was captured."

"I'm afraid you've left me little to add," he remarked.

"You could tell me more about the Whirling Scythes. It is not a clan I'm familiar with."

Iyeiden nodded. "The Whirling Scythes are a small clan who live in the southwest portion of the city. They are known for their ability to create and use a variety of curved blades. But with the deaths of so many of their finest weapon smiths due to a void accident, their line has been in a severe decline. Compounding the fact was the high birth rate of females, whom the Whirling Scythes do not hold in high regard."

The priestess' expression hardened at that particular bit of information, but she said nothing.

"Since rumor had it the Shadow Stalker's produced an unusually high number of males," he continued, "And the fact that Auran would likely agree to whatever their demands in exchange for a bond mate, they sent one of their elders to approach me."

He watched the priestess drink in his story, mulling over its contents.

"And yet none of the clan was present to witness the ceremony," she said after a moment.

The pair entered a high ceilinged passageway supported by thick, twisting columns. Beyond the jagged trunks, fiery lines of light traced the history of the misty jungle city of Kuuroch.

"As you can imagine, it was not something the Whirling Scythes wanted made public. In fact, many in the immediate family of the chosen female were opposed to the elders' proposal. So much so, the guards the elders sent were as much to protect their daughter from individuals within the clan as well as enemies without."

"I see," said the priestess, although Iyeiden wasn't sure if she was agreeing with him or implying something else.

"It grieves me that one of my own would commit such blasphemy within the temple walls," she said suddenly and for a brief second Iyeiden caught a faint glimpse of the turmoil roiling beneath the high priestess' calm and elegant exterior.

Iyeiden rumbled in sympathy.

"They have them," said the priestess suddenly, a statement rather than a question.

Iyeiden hesitated.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

He stopped walking and turned his gaze towards the floor in deference, his palms spread in a plaintive gesture.

"My apologies, high priestess, the priest can be returned to the temple, but the priestess… in their anger the Whirling Scythes killed her."

"Aya, Goddess," hissed the priestess. "They will feel Her wrath unless they make amends at the temple."

"Temple guardians were present at her capture."

"Then they neglected their duty and shall be punished."

The pair resumed walking, this time in silence. Asharah spoke first.

"Sacrifices will need to be made. Then I must purge the temple of any remaining taint."

"You believe there to be a greater conspiracy behind the act?" asked Iyeiden, his curiosity piqued.

"Only the Goddess knows. With the young priestess dead, I must find my own answers. I must be absolutely sure."

"I will send you anymore information that comes my way to help in your search."

"Ak'nandei."

She stopped and turned towards him. "This is all the time I have. Farewell speaker."

"I shall pray to the God to lend you strength," Iyeiden said, bowing his head. Asharah returned the gesture and left. He watched the high priestess go, the twisting knots returning to his stomach. It was never a good sign. His spine stiffened at a familiar and loathsome sound from behind and Iyeiden slowly turned to see Taqar chuckling as he walked out from beneath shadows of one of the gnarled columns.

"Busy as ever, Silver Tongue," he hissed, "When you're not turning your back on honorable warriors, you're ensnaring the Lightbearer of Kuuroch within your web of half-truths."

"Skulking does not become you, Taqar," growled Iyeiden.

"A pity she stopped her guards from ending your dishonorable life. I've always wondered what color your blood was," Taqar sneered.

"I would choose your next words carefully," Iyeiden rumbled darkly, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "I would love an excuse to cut that worm you call a tongue from your rotted skull."

Taqar smiled and spread his arms. "Now is the perfect time. We are alone and I am unarmed. You'll finally be rid of Taqar and his insolent rhetoric."

Iyeiden growled but made no move. "You test me youngling. Sometimes I think you disagree with me simply for the sake of disagreeing."

"Perhaps," replied Taqar, crossing his arms. "You've been different lately," he remarked, cocking his head to the side. "I've never seen you lose your temper before, even when it's on a subject you're passionate about and I'm doing everything I can to derail it. And yet not a moment after the high priestess leaves you were ready to kill me."

"You try my patience daily. It was bound to happen."

Taqar stared at him intently, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as was his habit when he was deep in thought, then smirked and look away.

"Fine, Iyeiden, if that is how you want to be. I will play your game."

"I do not play games."

Taqar laughed at the remark as he walked away. Iyeiden waited until he was out of sight before he released his grip on his sword, his hand trembling slightly. He ran a hand over his scalp, sighing. For the first time in a long while, he was unsure of what to do next.

* * *

**\', -|/ '-/,**

* * *

Tcharr's fingers clenched into claws as the mutagenic compound flooded his rigid veins. Sweat beaded along his right hand, the moisture pooling in his outstretched palm. His arm twitched and shivered like a headless serpent as pain, like a thousand needle stabbing into his skin, burst over his arm. Tcharr bit into a wad of cloth to hold back a howl of pain. His flesh rippled and stretched as the muscles and neurons reorganized themselves. It felt as if a horde of fleas were nibbling beneath his raw skin and he grabbed his wrist with his free hand to keep from scratching. Clawing at the itch would only rip the reforming skin open, a painful lesson he'd learned long ago. When the growing pains finally lessened he gently flexed his hand, making sure the new skin had formed properly. The change had gone smoothly. Satisfied, he headed to the lower chambers.

The prison guards at the gate did not challenge him, the symbol of the elite guard emblazoned upon his chest ensuring him clearance. He walked past empty cells, sniffing the air with distaste. No amount of cleaning compounds could eradicate the stench of urine and despair that stained the walls and floor. He ignored the curses and growls of the few prisoners held here, his attention fixed on the elevator shaft before him. He appraised the scanner, flexing his right hand as he considered the possibility of his plan failing. After he'd learned which individuals had access to the torture chambers he'd chosen his target, a squat, scarred faced torturer who spent most of his free time downing bottles of heqsa. He'd found the male passed out and drooling on the floor. The ground was littered with pieces of smashed glass and dirty rags stained with blood. Tcharr took a flesh sample and left.

Thankfully he didn't have to change his entire hand, just the surface. Altering the bone structure and internal organs was an excruciating and dangerous process. He'd seen the gruesome leftover results.

He placed his hand on the scanner and waited. The machine seemed to take longer than usual and Tcharr began to feel the first pricks of frustration. Then the door hissed opened, the scanner flashing its approval before falling dormant. Tcharr frowned at the irritating thing and stepped inside.

Hot, rancid air assaulted him as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. He nearly gagged as a nauseous mixture of piss, sweat and blood tore out his throat and shoved vomit into stomach and lungs. Rust brown paths of dried blood led from each of the three doors before him. Fresh boot prints had disturbed the bloody grime near the base of the middle. Tcharr heaved the rusted door open, its ancient hinges and lopsided frame shrieking and groaning in protest.

A new smell clawed at him, the scent of fresh blood. His target lay in a small pool of it, curled up against the floor in the middle of the room. He moved silently across the room and crouched behind her, appraising her broken form. Ugly, black bruises discolored most of her body while the skin from the back of her thighs hung in ragged, charred clumps. He noted her right hand was missing three fingers. It was the beginning of a torture that some called the Thirty Chances, because the victim was given a chance to cooperate each time the torturer ripped a piece of a finger from its socket. Each hand possessed fifteen pieces. The ex-priestess had been given nine chances so far.

"I know you're awake," he growled. "Do you remember me?"

He watched her stiffen in surprise.

"I told you I would kill you."

A sandpaper rasp escaped her throat and she tried to move away.

"Don't move."

She froze.

"I'll give you one last chance," Tcharr said as he hooked up a small vial to an injector cap, "to tell me why you tried to kill the Shadow Stalker's female."

He carefully positioned the injector at the base of the skull, in-between the spinal bones and held his thumb over the release sigil.

"I-I hate them…"

Tcharr decided from the sound of her breathing that she probably had several broken ribs.

"I hate the Shadow Stalkers. They're evil… they kidnap people… they took my mother, they took my sister… they blaspheme the ways of the God and Goddess…"

The female paused for breath, coughing up blood.

Tcharr silently cursed the female. She was useless, a religious fanatic driven by vengeance. He'd exposed himself for nothing. He pressed the sigil, the micro-poison filtering into her blood stream, eventually making its way into the area of the brain that controlled her lungs and heart. The female kept muttering about some great plan, seas of blood swallowing stars and wingless black dragons.

"I tried to save her. I couldn't. Salvation is a blind corpse leading the living into its grave…"

Tcharr got up and began to walk away.

"Kill him!" she cried out, moaning in pain as she rolled over, "Kill the Shadow Stalker and make him pay!"

He paused for a moment then continued on his way. He could hear her pleading still as he stepped into the elevator.


	11. Ouroboros

**Author's Note: **Yaaay, Chapter 11! Only took me two months *sheepish* But really, I do apologize for the long wait. I got bit by the summeritis bug (symptoms include laziness and daily addiction to minecraft) and have been recuperating the last couple weeks. A big thanks to Asperger's Mind's for his review. Also, shout out to my readers in Kyrgyzstan. Seriously lovin' the random places you readers pop up in :) The first part does feature Iyeiden, but fear not, you will be with our heroine shortly. It's my longest chapter yet, something you, my patient audience, deserve. As always: read, review and enjoy!

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**chaza – **KAH-zah – a carnivore with huge eyes- the creature secrets pheromones that slowly sedate the prey while its large eyes change color and pattern like a kaleidoscope, inducing a hypnotic state

**daka – **dah-kah – insult- idiot

**De'then-de – **deh-THIN-day – founder of the Singing Blades clan

**Feirraya** – feh-RAI-yah – fire singer

**Hesra – **HESS-rah

**ku'rozei – **KOO-ro-ZEY – Why? - Kuzei and Kuro are colloquialisms occasionally used by lower class yautja and small children, but can also be used when someone wants the information quickly

**Nava – **NAH-vah

**Ouroboros – **The serpent/dragon eating its own tail - represents infinity or wholeness. In this case, I've created a "double Ouroboros", in which two serpents form a circle and eat the other's tail.

**Talac –**TAA-lack

**Tchath'ka –**CHAATH-kah

**thras'ka – **thrahss-kah – "shifter"- refers to those genetically altered

**u'laude kalai – **oo-LAO-day kah-LAI – ("LAO" rhymes with "ow") female/child maker (Note: Since the Ashan'ii (aka Bloods) broke away from the Hunters centuries ago, language differences have arisen. "U'laude kalai" comes from the original word "lou-dte kale". This evolution of language is also the reason for the unique spelling and name differences of many characters and cities. Example: Since De'then-de (see above) was part of the first generation who settled on Ashann, his name would resemble those of the Hunters.

**Va'yithya – **vah-YITH-yah – High Clan of an Ashan'ii city-state. There are dozens of cities across the world, the burden of battling the serpents rotated each hunting season so the city can repopulate and recover.

**xashi -**ZAH-shee

**zazin – **ZAA-zin – to be centered within oneself, usually achieved through meditation

**Zeyin –** ZEI-yin

* * *

**Ouroboros**

* * *

Iyeiden stared up into the darkness, having given up on the idea of sleep several hours ago. He didn't sleep much these days. It had been this way ever since Shaidra approached him with his plan. That damn plan. If it worked it would be a stroke of brilliance. If it failed, Shaidra and the Thousand Blades would fall into ruinous shame and risk oblivion from the histories for heresy. And Iyeiden was caught in the middle. It galled him to be manipulated. He, Iyeiden Silver Tongue, whose very words could make or break a clan's chance at glory, backed into a corner with no way out. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor, the cold stone sending welcomed shivers over his hot limbs. It was weakness that drove him to this point. Too weak to save her, too weak to finish the job, and now his cowardice kept him from revealing the truth to Auran. He'd tried to tell him so many times, but never could. Because Auran would kill him. Because the truth might break Auran, or set him free. And worst of all, Shaidra knew it. The cunning bastard.

Iyeiden stood, the secret hanging from his neck like a great stone, sapping him of will, suffocating his dreams whenever he tried to sleep. For the first time, he was beginning to feel the weight of his years and more, as if he'd aged twenty in the last two. His hair had turned gray, brittle tips occasionally breaking off. The color of his flesh was fading; the spotted pattern which had impressed so many females disappearing more and more with each turn Ashann took around the two suns. Iyeiden smirked at the memory of his exploits as a youth and the impossibility of old age. He'd been invincible. If he couldn't win with his fists, he could usually talk his way out of trouble. Enemies became friends and few females could resist his charms. Except the one that mattered. The only female he'd truly desired. He swallowed the bitterness before it consumed him. Not tonight, he vowed, clenching his fights.

Moonlight glinting off silver caught his eye and he turned to where his sword hung. His hands itched to hold the blade once more, to feel the heft and weight of its perfectly balanced form. He strode forward, his eyes scanning its familiar shape; long and lean, straight and true. It had been a long time, too long in fact. Reverently, he lifted it up from its resting place, caressing the jeweled sheath and tracing the intricate golden feathers and ruby eyes of the fire bird emblazoned over the hilt. Feirraya, the Fire Singer, an ancient blade baptized in the blood of many enemies, its shrieking siren's call the last thing its opponent ever heard. Gripping the handle tightly he jerked the sword free, its piercing cry resonating with his warrior soul. The Singing Blades' swords were legendary. Even the enemy hunters who belonged to the yautja race's birth world had heard tales of fearsome warriors who wielded shrieking blades. The sword hummed in his hand, as if alive, shivering in anticipation. He set the sheath on its hook and stood in the center of the room. Eyes closed, he slowly raised the sword overhead, waiting for the moment of zazin_,_when a warrior achieved the perfect balance between mind, body and soul. Each time he wielded his blade, it felt as if took him longer and longer to achieve that balance; he feared the day he would be unable to do so. But that time had not yet come. Serenity swelled up from the hidden depths of his spirit, rushing through his limbs and lungs, the great burden forgotten and he exhaled his fears into the night air. Iyeiden gently sliced the air, the sword crooning a sensual aria. The melodies returned to him with each slash and twirl, the familiar tunes a comfort. Warriors of the Singing Blades did not just learn techniques specific to each sword. They learned battle songs, ancient masterpieces handed down since De'then-de of the Singing Blade first created them. Aspirant warriors learned how to harmonize their blades with their brothers' and to create their own war songs after they had mastered the old teachings.

Iyeiden's blade hummed and sighed, his muscles reflexively recalling a tune his mind had forgotten. The blade flipped and twirled in his right hand, slashing left, pulling up and overhead before snaking to the ground. A simple song, full of meaning. His armed jerked at the sudden memory, the sword shrieking in dismay at the interruption of its graceful arc. It was a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he couldn't sleep. He'd been so small, too young to even wield a knife. How then did he know how to play it with a sword?

His wrist computer screeched in alert, distracting him from the memory. He growled at it in irritation, the spell of zazin broken. As it dissolved from his flesh the burdens of his heart came crashing down upon him with a vengeance. Iyeiden slammed his sword back into its sheath, ignoring its wail of despair. There were few who could contact him directly, especially in the middle of the night, and Iyeiden was betting he knew who was on the other end. He considered just ignoring the summons. But the timing was unusual. Contact with the High Clan of Kuuroch was to be kept to a minimum during this phase of the plan. If it was Shaidra's representative, something might be wrong. Iyeiden cursed and grabbed the whining object, grabbing the image from the device and flinging it into the air before him.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" drawled Iyeiden as if he'd just woken up.

"Shut up Silver Tongue," hissed Shaidra. Iyeiden did his best to hide his surprise that it was the Shan himself making the call. Whatever had happened was serious, and he had a sinking feeling that Auran was somehow involved.

"Apologies, I did not expect—"

"I don't have time for formalities. Where is he?"

So Auran was involved. Perfect. "I don't know."

"Enough of your lies!" Shaidra roared, his fist slamming down in front of him. Iyeiden heard something shatter.

"If I knew I would tell you."

"You're telling me that the Shadow bastard has been gone three days and he hasn't once appeared to you?"

Three days? Auran's been gone three days? "Auran's disappeared? What about his bond mate?"

"They're both gone," growled Shaidra. "And there's one more thing: the priestess is dead."

"Dead? How?"

"During one of the interrogation sessions." Shaidra paused, his eyes narrowing. "The torturers' usually do not allow their prisoner's to die so quickly… Nothing was found in the autopsy scan but the circumstances surrounding her death remain suspicious. The guards reported Auran and the thras'ka missing not long after."

Iyeiden's mind raced at the implications of Shaidra's revelations. Their only lead was dead, possibly assassinated by either Auran or a spy hidden within the ranks of the Thousand Blades. Auran had kidnapped the female and had managed to avoid capture for three days. It was an irrational move on his part, but one that Iyeiden should've seen coming. This wasn't the first time. Auran barely trusted him as it was, and he certainly didn't trust Shaidra.

"It is unusual," Iyeiden said after a moment, "But I do not think Auran was involved in the priestess' death."

"How can you be sure?" Shaidra eyed him, suspicious.

"Auran wouldn't waste time seeking vengeance if he believed his bond mate was still in danger. He probably took her almost immediately after the antidote had been administered. But in her weakened condition he wouldn't risk traveling outside the city. It's been three days and the sweeps haven't been able to locate him, which means he's managed to remain off the city's sensor grid. There's only one place he could've gone in order for him to remain so well hidden."

"The Tunnels," Shaidra echoed, nodding. "The Arbiters lose many criminals in those dark and twisting streets of the lower levels."

"It's possible he has contacts down there."

Shaidra nodded again, his earlier impatience replaced with a cool, calculating aura. "There is still time. With Kuuroch mobilizing its hunting forces the city will be emptied of males." Shaidra rubbed his chin in thought.

"How many seasons will Kuuroch fight?" inquired Iyeiden.

"Three. I will not be outdone by those ganja loving Va'yithya."

"Nine months is a long time to battle the serpents. Will Kuuroch have the strength to defend itself afterwards should things become… tense? There are many purists who will oppose your plan."

Shaidra's smile did not reach his eyes. "Which is why the Thousand Blades' ascension will be all the more glorious."

Iyeiden said nothing. Shaidra's ambition sometimes narrowed his vision and dulled his hearing. To contradict him risked his wrath; Iyeiden had the scars to prove it. But the Shan was no fool and fiercer than any warrior he knew.

"Iyeiden?"

"Yes, Shaidra'shan?"

"If I find out that you're helping Drakenatharr…"

Iyeiden stiffened at the humiliating reminder of the leash Shaidra'd placed him and choked back a snarl. "The Singing Blades serves the Thousand Blades. Both Auran and the female will be found before your return, my lord. I swear it." Iyeiden clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head.

"I will hold you to that oath, Silver Tongue."

Shaidra's words echoed in his mind even as the holo-image dissipated. He ran trembling fingers over his scalp, aware of how close he had come to losing it in front of the Shan. _The God curse me and my weakness, where the hell have you run away to this time Auran?_

* * *

**-|/ \-' -',**

* * *

Tyler had figured out the story carved into the walls. She'd had plenty of time, days in fact, although she wasn't sure how many. Four, maybe five. She tapped the ends of her fingertips as she silently counted out how many times Auran had left, never saying where he was going or why she had to stay behind. Five. He'd left her in this stone prison five times. Five "days" of endless boredom. There were only so many push-ups and sit-ups she could do. Leaving her plenty of time to decipher the strange art decorating the wall panels. It had taken her two days to realize that the story was actually composed of two parallel storylines, beginning on either side of the fireplace. It was a tale of two warriors. The right side followed the heroic feats of a mighty warrior crowned with the sun and wielding a flaming double-headed axe. In the first panel he stood, proud and tall atop a mountain of elongated alien skulls, weapon lifted high above his head in triumph. The panels merged and flowed together, the warrior charging a dragon with a scorpion tail, leaping into the air above a double-jawed insectoid and plunging his axe into the chest of an armored feline with venomous fangs. The favored warrior of the sun god achieved many victories over rival and beast alike. Glowing symbols decorated the background and occasionally the warrior and animals themselves. Whether they told a story or were simply part of the overall aesthetic was something Tyler could not say for certain. Tyler hugged her knees to her chest and looked over at the opposing panels.

The warrior featured on the left could not be more different from its right side counterpart. This warrior wore a mask; its smaller, scarred body crouched beneath a leafless tree, moonlight streaming between its twisted branches and casting the mysterious figure into deeper shadow. Twin long knives glinted in its hands, held in front of his darkened chest in the shape of an X. For every feat the golden warrior achieved, the shadow warrior achieved with cunning and stealth. Tyler turned and faced the back wall, watching as the two combatants climbed up opposing temple staircases to meet each other in the center frame for the final battle, to settle which of them was the greater warrior once and for all. Here Tyler struggled to understand the meaning of the climactic battle. Despite missing an arm, the smaller fighter stood victorious, one of his blades buried in his rival's heart, the stone glowing ruby red where the fallen warrior's blood spilt upon the stone. Instead of raising his arm in triumph however, the smaller warrior had stabbed his other blade into his own chest, head bowed in what appeared to be either grief or shame. It made little sense. Neither seemed evil and Tyler assumed the fight had been fair, for there were witnesses carved into the background. Perhaps they were brothers caught up in deadly game of sibling rivalry? Or maybe they were fighting to prove which martial style was superior? Tyler crossed her arms over her knees and rested her chin on top. She growled in frustration, still unable to decipher the story's ending. She hadn't questioned Auran about it. Maybe she should. It would be nice to talk about something other than nothing. Tyler frowned and stared down at the furs. He might be keeping her prisoner here, but he was only person she could talk to. She was actually starting to look forward to his returns, even if he didn't say much.

He was hiding something, Tyler was sure of it. It might be for her protection, but body guards could provide as much security as four walls. Something else was going on, something he believed she wouldn't understand. Just like that time on the ship when Auran had thrown her into that room after the exchange had somehow been compromised. She'd figured a way out when staying put would've been the smart thing to do, but she'd never been that smart. Slightly above average grades, running away to join the Marines and signing away her body to some mad scientists. Oh, and sleeping with that jerk, Kasem. Tyler growled, then sighed and rested her forehead against her arms. Five days in solitary gave a person a lot to remember and regret.

Another growl crawled up her throat as she raised her head, eyes narrowed. No, she wouldn't regret anything. She'd gotten out of that cell on the ship and what had happened to her? Nothing. Instead she'd been rewarded with the view of an extraterrestrial world and a vast alien metropolis. The only thing she'd regret would be giving up and allowing Auran to break her. His mistake if he thought hiding the truth from her was the right thing to do.

She hopped off the bed and walked over to the sealed entrance, tracing her fingers over crevices and pressing on parts of the carvings. She'd searched the panels and floor a dozen times already, but hope compelled her to try again. Maybe, just maybe, this time she'd find the way out.

* * *

**\|; '-, \'**

* * *

Tyler hissed in frustration. She was sure the mysterious central panel held the key to her freedom, if only she could understand what the final scene meant. Or maybe the meaning of the story and the release mechanism had absolutely nothing to do with each other and she was staring at the carvings because she was running out of ideas. Tyler flopped back against the furs, rubbing her forehead in an attempt to relieve some tension. Caffeine sounded wonderful right about now. Tyler sucked in a frustrated breath only to gag. She sniffed again and grimaced. She smelt awful. Tyler sat up, chirping in confusion, then disgust as she peeled off a blanket of fur stuck to her sweaty back. Caffeine and a bath were what she needed, she thought as she tossed the matted piece of fur to the floor. Or at least relief from this obnoxious heat. She turned and glowered at the fireplace, the fire inside burning as bright and hot as it had since she'd first woken up after being poisoned. Auran hadn't touched the thing, so she had no idea if it was even possible to turn it off. She bet that wrist computer he always wore could turn it off, just like it could open the door. The thing was like a super universal remote.

Tyler wiped the beads of sweat forming across her forehead as she stood in front of the wide circular fireplace, the highest point almost reaching her neck. With infrared vision the flames were even more entrancing, the flickering light sending out ripples of coruscating air that curled and crinkled when it came into contact with the cooler air of the room. She'd spent a good portion her time staring into those flickering tongues of light, thinking of everything and nothing. It had saved her from many hours of boredom. But right now, at this moment, she would've liked nothing more than to toss a bucket of water on the thing. She'd have to settle for a switch. Tyler's eyes darted over the bare wall and the double Ouroboros decorating the circumference, the black, skeletal serpents' jaws locked onto each other's tails, their ruby studded eyes gleaming in amusement, as if sharing in a private joke at her expense. Tyler let out a snarl of frustration and punched the top creature's head. "No switch? You've got to be kiddi—"

The familiar sound of stone sliding over the floor interrupted Tyler's outburst and she glanced over to see that the door had opened. Auran was back. She pulled her fist away from the snake creature and waited. Much to her surprise, he did not enter and the door sealed itself shut. Tyler stood there for a moment, staring, the crackling of the fire the only sound to be heard. "You've got to be kidding…" she repeated, her voice barely rising above a whisper. She stared at the snake-thing, its lidless, blood red eye staring back, a trace of a smile etched into the corner of its mouth as it engorged itself on its equally amused twin. She'd gone crazy. Tyler gently pushed in the eye and again, the door opened. Tyler laughed and clapped her hands together, bringing them to her mandibles and squeezing her eyes shut as relief and excitement flushed through her. She quickly grabbed the satchel of dried meat Auran had left and slung it over her shoulder. A growing sense of urgency filled her now that she'd obtained the key to her freedom. Auran could return at any moment and she wanted to at least have a chance to look around.

Thank God he'd left her clothing. Sort of. It was just a thick leather thong really. It looked like it belonged to a set of kinky lingerie, but based on what Auran wore, minus the armor, Tyler concluded females probably didn't wear much either. Modesty, apparently, wasn't as big an issue for their species. It wasn't something she could get comfortable with easily; she'd always liked her privacy. It helped that her breasts were pretty much nonexistent; the urge to cover herself though, had yet to disappear. Tyler remembered Auran's bemused expression when she'd done it the first time. He'd pulled her arms away and examined her chest to see if she were hurt. Explaining that it was simply because she was nervous seemed to unsettle him. "You are afraid?" he asked, eyes narrowing. Tyler's pride had kept her from answering and she'd immediately regretted mentioning her fear to a member of an alien species that seemed to feel none and despised weakness. "Ku'rozei?" Tyler couldn't hold his penetrating amber gaze, the intense edge to his question unsettling.

_Because you're a seven foot tall, barbaric warrior alien I've been forced to marry and have sex with, who could kill or leave me any time he chooses. Because I have trust issues since almost everyone in my life has either abandoned me or died._

Of course, she'd confessed none of those things. She mumbled something about not being used to wearing so little clothing. Whether he'd accepted her explanation she did not know. And what he would do if he found out she'd snuck out? She hesitated as her fingers brushed against the serpent's eye. She was about to wander into unknown territory, filled with aggressive aliens and advanced technology which she had no idea how to operate. On top of that, Auran might never trust her again. Was a taste of freedom worth that? Tyler glanced behind at the room she'd spent countless hours in alone, the eerie shadows, dark walls and leering skull torches sending shivers down her spine. She wasn't staying in this room for another minute. She would return, Tyler decided as she pushed the ruby switch. A walk, just to explore and get her bearings. An hour perhaps, maybe two and she would be done, maybe even before he returned. Tyler stepped through the open doorway, her resolve crystallizing with each step. Even if he didn't love her, he should at least respect her and her desires. Tyler knew she was rationalizing her irrational grab at freedom, but it was too late to turn back. The stone slab sealed shut behind her and with it her fate.

Her breath became stuck somewhere in her lungs as she took in the sight before her. Strange metals and stones melded and swirled across the floor, glowing with an inner aura that was unnerving and fascinating at the same time. Heat rippled from the surface, lazy tendrils caressing her calves as if she'd stepped into a waterless golden seabed. Concentric rings of differing colors decorated the floor, but even though she could see the varying shades of warmth, her feet detected no difference, the stone surprisingly cool. Rings of gold, saffron, copper and amber circled the floor, the tendrils of light shivering as she walked past to the center of the room. Sensual swirls and arching curves adorned the ceiling, the chamber's light and beauty a stark contrast to the heat and gloom of her prison. It was, she decided, mesmerizing.

It was then she noticed the carvings adorning the curved walls. She paused, the unearthly floor momentarily forgotten. Tall, willowy females posed in tantalizing positions, one arm reaching to the ceiling, the other reaching between their legs or running a hand over their smooth chests. Between each nude enchantress was a door, Tyler counting seven in all as she spun in a slow circle at the center of the room. Upon the doors posed curvaceous females, their bodies writhing in erotic ecstasy, each ensnared by a lustful monster. Tyler studied the door to her room and her gut clenched at the eerie symbolism carved into its face. A young female caressed two snakes, their long, sinuous tails wrapped about her limbs, flickering tongues licking her exposed neck and stomach. Tyler crossed herself, despite having abandoned her Catholic heritage years ago. The gesture felt appropriate.

The faint ringing of warning bells sounded within her mind, but she dismissed her uneasiness as ignorant. It was not her place to judge another culture, especially when she scarcely knew anything about it. She shot a glance at a female trapped within the clutches of a tentacled creature with an unnatural leer spread over its features, and quickly turned her attention elsewhere as she hurried to the open archway and gently sloping stairwell.

She was immediately plunged into darkness and Tyler faltered halfway down, waiting for her eyesight to adjust to the icy gloom. Veins of amethyst spread across the obsidian walls of the cavernous room, their faint violet glow barely illuminating the ground below. Entangled silhouettes hung from the walls, frozen in a moment of a thousand dark and desperate desires. Watching over their domain at the center towered two females, entwined about each other's bodies. Tyler paused as she drew closer, nearly blushing, the depth of the pair's passion overwhelmingly vivid, blurring the line between tenderness and lust. She moved slowly across the glassy floor, careful not to make any noise. One small gasp and the spell would be broken, the debauched mass and mistresses awakening to finish what was started. She dragged her attention from the two lovers, squinting at the luminous golden light hovering just above the stairway behind her, as if it dared not enter. Just like the golden chamber and its seven doors, the dark chamber led to seven golden rooms. Tyler peered through the gloom. An exit at the opposite end of the chamber beckoned. She hesitated. This was enough wasn't it? She could confront Auran about what she'd seen and he would have no choice but to explain. She'd return, so he couldn't be angry. Yet, a part of her doubted. He had refused to explain before. She had one card up her sleeve; he possessed a full deck. He had no reason to fold.

It hit her then how little trust there was between them, both of them chipping away at the foundation of their bond in a race to see who could do the most damage. Hadn't she said she trusted him? She'd seen his expression, the change that had briefly melted his hardened features when she'd murmured the words. Even if she hadn't really meant them, he'd believed every word. Tyler decided to turn back, before she did irreparable injury to their tenuous 'relationship' or whatever it was they shared. 'Mutual agreement' sounded closer.

Tyler sighed and turned to head back to the room when a large hand roughly jerked her back around.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry! I was on my way back, I—" Her words ran dry when she realized it was not Auran who'd found her. He was huge, easily twice Auran's size. Slabs of thick fat covered cords of huge muscles like a natural layer of armor. Deep scars littered his coal black skin and glowing tattoos looped around his arms and neck. A deep, baritone growl rolled up his throat.

"I can spot a runaway blindfolded."

"I-I wasn't running away." How in the world had this huge guy snuck up on her?

"Oh really?" His free hand grabbed the satchel, snapping the cord and sending a small sting across her shoulder. He brought it up to his mouth and inhaled. "Then explain why you're carrying two days worth of rations." He dangled it in the air, a smirk stretching his swarthy jowls.

"That's none of your business," spat Tyler. "This is a misunderstanding. Let me go and I'll—"

"You'll what? Escape and leave Jaul to be punished? I don't think so. Pretty flesh like yours wouldn't last long outside these walls and I don't much care for anymore scars." He pulled her along beside him and Tyler could see they were headed for the unfamiliar archway. Away from her room. Tyler kicked, squirmed and cursed, having all the effect of ragdoll beating against a boulder. "Let me go! You're making a mistake!" Her outbursts earned her a booming chuckle from the behemoth guard. "You have spirit girl, but if you do not learn to control that tongue of yours, the Mistress will have it cut out." He paused before pushing open the doors, a serious expression falling over his features. "That is a promise."

Though she glared up at him, mandibles splayed in defiance, uncertainty clenched her gut. Jaul shoved open the thick metal doors and Tyler's senses were immediately overwhelmed, bombarded by a cacophony of sound, light and smell. Near infrasonic bass shook the room, the pounding vibrations a sledgehammer to the chest. An eerie wail pierced the air, her eardrums turning into bleeding pincushions with each keening note. The room was soaked in the color of blood, bright red lasers and holograms darting through the air, like tracer rounds. Like Watts' blood after a Korey bullet blew out the side of his head and his brain spattered into her face. The ghost taste of his coppery blood filling her mouth made her gag. The bass punched in her lungs and suddenly she was in the lab again, drowning in the tank filled with crimson liquid. She stumbled, her trembling legs struggling to keep up with her long limbed captor in the face of the sensory assault. Jaul didn't seem to notice and neither did the crowd of drunk males and scantily clad females, both giving the two a wide berth, instinctively aware that her captor was on a mission. No one wanted to get in the way of the eight foot, 450 pound juggernaut. He skirted around the circular chamber's edge to avoid the more crowded center, where dozens of males jostled for drink, company and an unobstructed view of the gyrating dancers. The smell of musk hung thick in the air and Tyler coughed in a vain attempt to get the bitter taste out of her mouth.

Jaul nodded to a pair of guards standing in the shadows, a beaded curtain concealing an obscure side entrance between them. Like Jaul, thick leather straps with a hexagonal symbol at the center crisscrossed their chests. Which meant her captor was also a guard. He led her through entryway and into a tight stairwell. Pipes, wiring and slaves scurried up and down the narrow corridor, the silent servants pressing themselves flat against walls when Jaul passed by. Tyler estimated they'd traveled down three stories. Any hopes of it being quieter at the bottom were quickly dashed. Controlled chaos greeted the pair, females of every age, size and color darting between dressing rooms, kitchens and communal living areas. Jaul ignored the hubbub and half naked females, leaving the gawking to Tyler. Colorful costumes from see through silk to the elaborate adorned scintillating bodies. Perfume underpinned with the heavy musk of sex hung thick in air. A cacophony of high pitched chirps, chitters and hisses filled the halls and roofed plazas, completely at odds with deep grunts and long silences she'd experienced amongst the males of the species. A troupe of females sauntering by, wearing only masks stuck with feathers and horns, noticed her stares. Several of them clicked angrily, one giving her what looked like a rather nasty gesture. Tyler flared her mandibles slightly, but kept her head down the rest of the trek as she tried to process everything she'd just witnessed.

A whore house. The straps across the guard's chest. Auran wore those same straps every time he left. Tyler slowly put two and two together, not really caring who she bumped into. Auran… was a guard… at a whore house. Tyler cursed, earning her odd looks from several bystanders. Questions raced through her mind, the first and foremost being why the hell they were at a brothel.

Jaul's grip on her upper arm hadn't loosened one iota as he dragged her through the throng of sweating bodies and it was starting to go numb. The chorus of complaints and laughter faded behind them as they drew near the center of the underground labyrinth and Tyler took advantage of the quieter atmosphere.

"Listen. I don't work here, okay? If you could just find Auran, he can explain and—"

"I don't know any 'Auran'. And I don't need an explanation. I've heard every lie, plea, bribe, justification, defense and excuse in the galaxy you girls use to get out of work. Jaul's ears are full of them and this has made him deaf. Save your words. It will save you trouble."

The weight of his words drowned her retort and she sunk into silence, shoulders slumped over.

Jaul headed for an entrance draped in red silk, stopping several paces short of the threshold. He cleared his throat. "Matron Hesra." Tyler heard movement but couldn't see anyone. Jaul waited patiently, a bored expression on his face. His swarthy neck made it look as if his face were reclining against his skull. Finally, an older female with tightly bound gray hair ducked beneath the drapes, her sharp eyes fixing onto Tyler. Tyler resisted the urge make herself appear smaller, straightening instead. "What is this thing you've brought me?" The Matron kept her piercing gaze on her. She was tall for a female, her black, high necked robe accentuating her height and authority in equal measure.

"A runaway. Thought she might need a lesson in gratitude, so I brought her here."

The Matron folded her hands into her wide sleeves and finally turned her attention to Jaul. "This thing will disturb the girls. She stares too long, like a wide-eyed chaza. Is she feral?"

"No," Jaul smirked. "She tried to fight Jaul though. Tries to fight even now." He looked down at her, his grip tightening on her forearm even more, almost daring her to try and do something stupid. Tyler glared at him.

Matron Hesra clucked. "Take her to Nava. See if she can break her. I have too much to do without having to add disobedient children to the list."

Tyler's heart sped up. Break her? Not if she had anything to say about. She'd asked nice. Time to play dirty. As Jaul turned to haul her off in a new direction Tyler twisted and clamped her legs around his thigh. Then bit. Hard. Jaul roared and let go, clutching his bleeding forearm. Tyler hit the ground rolling and took off, sputtering as she tried to spit out his bitter blood from her mouth. She was going away from the red room, but with Jaul right behind her going back wasn't an option. Tyler sprinted down the corridor, shoving past slaves and dancers and knocking over anything that might impede her pursuer. Jaul roared only a few paces behind, sending her skin crawling with adrenaline. She ducked into the narrowest looking passages, never looking back. She was utterly lost. Tyler spotted a beaded doorway with stairs leading up and shot for the exit; Jaul's thundering footsteps not far behind. He skidded out from the narrow alley, nearly ramming the far wall. He was breathing hard. "Don't let her escape!" he yelled. The lounging guard who'd been flirting with a pair of identical looking females lunged for her. Too slow. She scampered up the stairs, two at a time. Beneath Jaul's enraged shouts she could hear the guard alerting his comrades posted throughout the sector. Tyler burst through the curtained exit, the beaded strands hissing in protest. She darted across the honeycomb shaped chamber to what looked like an elevator shaft, cursing when she didn't see any buttons. What did these people have against buttons and door handles? Suddenly, the elevator doors pealed back and it was then Tyler noticed the sensor above the doorframe. Oh. She slipped in, the doors sealing shut, cutting off Jaul's deep grunts as he raced up the stairway. The ride up felt agonizingly long. Tyler bounced her leg, anxious to get as far away from her pursuer as possible. A couple seconds to herself. Just enough time to panic. Tyler's hands trembled as the adrenaline rush began to taper off. Suddenly the doors slid open, a large male blocking the exit. His remaining eye rolled over her body as he approached the elevator and Tyler decided this was one awkward ride she did not want to share with a stranger cover in spikes with drool hanging from the corner of his mouth. She hugged the doorframe, trying keep as much distance between herself and her admirer as possible. Tyler squeaked and leapt away, clutching her sore bottom. She turned and glared at the male, a smug grin splayed across his mandibles. Pervert. Rubbing the sore spot, Tyler glanced around. Another hexagonal room. She sniffed the air. No Jaul. No Auran either. Just sex and lots of it. After a few moments she could hear it too, everywhere. Questions and emotions tumbled inside her head. Auran was going to be pissed. Jaul was going to kill her. Then give her over to be broken. Of all places, why the hell did he bring her to a whore house?

"Hey." Tyler nearly jumped out of her skin. She quickly backed away, fear racing through her at the sight of the new guard. He staggered slightly, his droopy eyes wandering until they managed to settle on her.

"Hey… som'in' wrong? I heard som'in'." The guard's glazed eyes followed something above her head. Tyler looked up. Nothing. She looked back him, eyebrow raised. Was he drunk? This could work in her favor. She did her best to smile. "Um, I'm fine. Could you help me though? I'm a little lost." He stared at her, squinting his eyes and blinking as he rocked back on his heels. "Wassa matter with your face?"

Alien facial expressions sucked. She tried again.

"I'm lost. Where does the elevator go?" He grinned at her, ignoring the several males exiting the elevator and walking off towards the rooms down the hallway. Tyler sighed. Drunk or not, this idiot couldn't help her. She walked towards the open elevator, grateful Jaul hadn't found her yet. Pain lanced through her skull, the guard snapping her head back by her dreadlocks. He pulled her against him, running his free hand over her stomach.

"I didn't say you could leave," he growled, his sour breath washing over her face. "None of the others'll talk to me. You're stayin'." He'd gone from carefree druggie to a quiet rage in a split second. He was hitting some serious stuff and she didn't want any part of what was going on inside his head.

"I don't think so." Tyler smashed her heel into his toes. A slam to the ribs with her elbow allowed her to wiggle free. Into the arms of another guard.

"Hey, watch it!" Tyler shoved the new guard backwards, only to hit a wall of muscle from behind. The first guard grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Anger burned through the haze of the drugs. His mandibles drew back in a snarl.

Tyler heard the second guard suck in his breath. "Hey Tchath'ka, I think it's her."

"What?" he snapped, his gaze not leaving Tyler.

"That's the runaway they've been yellin' about. Apparently she bit Jaul and gave him the runaround." The guard snickered. "Can you imagine Jaul trying to sprint?"

"Shut up, Talac." Talac quieted. "This little u'laude kalai needs to be taught a lesson. Disrespecting the Mistress's generosity when she could be rotting in the Tunnels and assaulting three of her protectors." He clicked in displeasure, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "What should we do with her Talac?"

"Uhh… take her to Jaul?"

"Iyan daka!"

Talac growled. "You've been taking xashi again haven't you? Do you know what the others will do if they find out you brought that stuff into the Mistress' territory?"

While the two argued Tyler gently slipped Tchath'ka's knife from his belt and pressed it against her thigh. She took a deep breath, wincing as Tchath'ka's nails bit into her skin. _God, I'm going to need a little luck right now_.

"Hey! What do you think you'r— AaaAAAaaahhggghh! My eye! Bitch cut my eye!" Tyler kicked the screaming guard in the groin and turned to deal with Talac. He lunged, grabbing for her waist. Tyler batted both his arms aside and delivered several rapid punches to his chest. He backed off, momentarily stunned. She ducked Tchath'ka's overreaching punch and grabbed his arm. With a grunt, she twisted it, a satisfying pop of bone separating from socket ringing in her ears as she flipped him over her shoulder and into a surprised Talac. She ducked into side passage, skidding to a stop as Talac emerged at the far end. She turned to head back and froze. Tchath'ka blocked the entire archway. Blood oozed down the left side of his face, dripping to the floor.

"Dead end bitch," he growled, a dark light entering his remaining eye. Tyler stood her ground, a part of her actually hoping Jaul would find them. The guard took his time, casually making his way down the hall, a cold smile spreading over his face. Tyler held the knife out in front, doing her best to keep her hands from trembling. He stopped just a few yards from her, waiting for Talac to move in. Tchath'ka's gaze slid over her body. Tyler felt dirty, like grease had been wiped over her skin.

"Good, I'll call it in. Might get a reward you know," Talac clicked as he approached from behind, tapping his wrist computer.

"Yan."

Talac hesistated. "What? I don't understand. We got her."

"I want her. She took my eye and I want her to pay." Tchath'ka was quivering with rage. "I will _break_her..."

Talac glanced between Tyler and his companion. "We aren't allowed to touch them—"

"Shut up!" Tchath'ka whipped out what looked like a gun. Tyler ducked. A keening shriek zipped through the air and Talac collapsed, his body jerking as electricity pulsed through it. Tyler didn't wait to see if he would use it on her, charging and screaming in an attempt to get him off balance. At the last second she ducked his fist and spun around. But he was faster. A well placed kick caught her in the back, sending her crashing to the floor. Pain lanced through her as a foot smashed against her ribs, the kick slamming her into the wall. Stars clouded her vision as blows rained down. Tyler heard several awful crunching sounds. It hurt to breath. Tchath'ka grabbed her ankles and dragged her into an empty room. Tyler thought she heard voices in the corridor.

He snatched the knife from her flailing arms, slashing at her clothes and cutting into her thighs. Tyler kicked his hands away and hissed. Suddenly the serrated knife was pressed against her throat. "One more sound," he growled, slowly dragging the knife down to her chest, "and I'll carve you up." His single red eye burned with hate. He'd kill her now if she gave him an excuse. She closed her eyes, body trembling as she waited for the inevitable pain. Tyler flinched as Tchath'ka roared, sucking in a surprised gasp as he pushed away from her and stood.

Just as she opened her eyes a bright red bolt of energy punched through his head. Tchath'ka's body twitched and jerked as if attached to strings, his arm swinging the knife wildly through the air, before finally slumping to the floor. Tyler crawled away from the body and huddled against the wall, fixated on the steaming hole that had once been a head. The stench of burned flesh filled the air. Tyler gagged, vision blurring as her eyes watered.

Suddenly Auran was crouched before her. He said something, but she didn't understand. She flinched when he tried to pry her arms open. Over Auran's shoulder she saw curious onlookers peering through the door. Auran placed his hands on either side of her face and turned her towards him. She stared into eyes, the color of deep amber, filled with anger and pain, but above all, concern.

"You're safe," he said.

Tyler sobbed and threw herself into his arms. He held her, his embrace gentle but firm. A deep rumble rolled up his body, the vibrations soothing. He wasn't angry. Not at her. The fire in his eyes had been reserved for his enemy. Auran sunk to his knees and cradled her as she clung to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…_

Auran rested his chin on top of her head, his purrs deep and steady. Tyler found herself answering with her own broken, uncertain chitters, the moment almost too good to be true and any second now she was certain Tchath'ka would get up and finish what he started. Auran gently scooped her into his arms and carried her out, ignoring the on looking females and their clients crowding the hall. Tyler let out a pained sigh of relief as she left the room, wishing the dark memories would stay behind to die with their maker.

The right side of her body felt smashed in, her breath coming in short gasps. Coughing only made it worse. "Deep, slow breaths," he murmured. The effort was taxing. Exhaustion began to seep into her skin. All she wanted to do was curl up under a thick blanket and sleep for a week. A cadre of males, all guards, surrounded them, their deep, growling voices sending shivers down her spine and she tightened her grip around Auran's neck.

"Zeyin." Jaul's gruff voice snapped at Auran. "Hand her over. That little runaway needs to be taught some manners… wait." He sniffed. "I smell blood."

"Tchath'ka's," stated Auran. "You'll find his body down the hall. Talac is unconscious."

A chorus of questions rang out: What happened? Who killed him?

"It seems Tchath'ka stunned Talac. I killed Tchath'ka." Clicks and murmurs rippled amongst the guards.

"You four, clean up. You," Jaul growled to Auran, "Come with me. The Mistress will want an explanation."

Anxiety set her heart pounding and Tyler wheezed as broken bone raked against her lungs.

"Au—" He cut her off with a sharp click.

"Zeyin," he whispered.

"Zeyin… what are they going to do to me?"

"Nothing."

"But I… I ran away."

"I told you before, you are safe. This is my fault. The Mistress can do with me what she likes."

Tyler rested against his shoulder, the urge to cry hurting her chest. He not only rescued her, he blamed himself. It didn't make any sense. She'd left the room. The one thing he told her not to do. It was her fault. Everything. So why, _why_wasn't he angry?

Auran laid her on a pallet, herbs dangling from the ceiling, the scent of perfume and bitter medicines wafting through the air. A small female dug around work benches and drawers, chirping in satisfaction whenever she found certain unguents and bandages she needed. Auran remained crouched beside her despite Jaul's impatient growls.

"Stay here."

"She's not going to punish you is she?" Tyler's vision blurred but she fought through the pain. Auran shook his head. "Yan. Most make her out to be more fearsome than she actually is. I know her well." Jaul snorted in disbelief. She watched the pair leave, trying to quell the sharp sting of panic when Auran finally disappeared from view. She was safe. Auran was safe. She repeated over and over, a mantra to ward off the dark visions resting just beneath the surface of her mind.


	12. Xashi

**Author's Note: **Woot! An action chapter! Short, sweet and bloody, just how I like it.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Ajenke –** ah-JEN-keh

**naxa – **NAHKS-ah

* * *

**Xashi**

* * *

Auran lied.

The Mistress had killed others for less. And spared others for worse.

She was known by many names: The Lady of the Night. Mistress of Pleasure. Vengeful bitch.

Names she'd earned as she'd carved a bloody a trail through the Tunnels. A nameless street whore and slave who'd murdered the Oo'kinga drug lord in front of his entire gang. Then watched as the shocked drunken horde died in agony from poison. Using the dead gang runner's own drug stash, she bought her own cartel of clanless mercenaries and Tunnel rats, promising power and freedom to those who brought her the skulls of her enemies. Which meant everyone.

For several months, the twisted underground of Kuuroch had burned, belching black clouds of smoke into the upper city, staining the flawless alabaster buildings and soaring bridge ways. Blood choked sewers eventually put out the fires.

When the dead had been stripped clean of flesh and bone, the Mistress owned more than half of the Tunnels.

Auran remembered those long nights, the sounds of drug fueled warriors lashing out at anything that moved, the wails of the dying ringing in his eyes as he huddled with his swarm mates beneath dirty blankets. The Mistress had a soft spot for rats like him, if they proved useful. He'd earned her favor, advancing deep into the heart of enemy territory to scout out gang movements and weapon caches.

But all that had been years ago.

He couldn't tell Ahandra any of that. Telling her nothing however, like last time, would be a mistake. Despite the risk, she would try to follow him. So he'd lied. If she knew the truth, she would fight him, argue against him facing the Mistress, defy his decision. Just like she'd done on the ship. Just like every day for the last five, hounding him with questions. He wasn't sure if it was because she was huunan, stubborn or female.

Auran suppressed a rising growl, Jaul just a few strides behind.

That night, that first night together she'd whispered those unexpected words, he'd done everything in his power to restrain himself. _I trust you_. His chest tightened at the mere memory.

But after that night, Ahandra'd submitted to him begrudgingly, withdrawing from him more each day. Bitterness welled up inside him. Auran clenched his fists as a sharp pain lanced through him, as if a chest burster gnawed at his ribcage.

Auran silently cursed. His emotions, tightly bound and ordered since his youth, were unraveling before his eyes. A male with some measure of pride and honor would have let his female bear the responsibility for her disobedience. But not Auran. He was a weak fool. The moment she'd thrown herself into his arms he'd been too shocked to think, his anger disintegrating in an instant. As he'd carried her to the healers he knew what needed to be done. They both knew she was responsible for what happened but Ahandra had no idea what kind of consequences she would be accepting. Auran could take punishment. He'd taken it all his life.

He drew in a deep breath as he approached the heart of the underground complex, the entryway's crescent petals dilating as he approached. He stepped onto the bridge, the echo of his footsteps swallowed by the dark water lapping at the edges. Several paces beyond, at the end of the shadowed walkway, loomed two somber maidens bearing pitchers on their shoulders, the crisp tang of seaweed and naxa flower suffusing the air as the pair poured a silky stream of incense into heated bowls below them, triggered by Auran and Jaul's arrival. A curtain of water spread from either maidens' side, feeding into the whispering waters below. The curved walls of the flattened ovoid stretched out of sight, hidden behind the thin walls of falling water. Auran's gaze lingered on the dozens of poisonous glow fish gliding beneath the moat's black, trembling surface. A mere graze from one of their fins and he would be paralyzed, slowly suffocating or, if he was in the water, drowning, while the glow fish tore into his flesh.

He stepped into the spacious inner chamber, glancing at the two other entrances to his left and right. Through cracked stone, lustrous crystals hung overhead, bathing the room in soft amber. At the center, a group of Matrons huddled around a lithe figure wrapped in diaphanous silk, framed by a large holo-screen littered with numbers and names. Auran's breath caught in his throat.

The Mistress.

Her murmuring attendants stepped aside, clicking in disapproval at the two males' sudden intrusion, the orange screen disappearing into one of the matron's thick bracelets. Auran paused at a respectful distance and bowed his head, not looking up until the Mistress acknowledged him. Jaul growled, grabbing him by the neck and shoving him to his knees. Auran quashed the urge to break his superior's arm. Fingers still clamped tight around his throat, he heard rather than saw the Mistress approach, the tips of her sandaled feet stepping into view.

"Jaul," she purred, "Have you brought me a new plaything?"

Auran swallowed. The Mistress didn't take lovers. She took prisoners.

"If you wish it, my Mistress. This one deserves a lashing for his crimes. He's a deceiver, broke the rules set by you and needs a lesson he will not forget."

She must've waved him away because Jaul's crushing grip disappeared. Auran crouched immobile, remaining on one knee. She could kill him now and there was nothing he could do. It was a risk he had to take.

Fingers trailed over his crest and through his hair. His skin prickled in surprise as her claws lightly caressed his shoulders.

"What is your name, deceiver?" she cooed as she circled around behind him.

"Zeyin."

Pain ripped through his left shoulder as she raked her needle sharp claws deep into his flesh. Auran gritted his fangs, muscles bunching as hot fire spread from the wound. Chjit, she may have poisoned him.

"I said, what is your name, _deceiver_?"

He watched his blood drip to the floor beside the Mistress' feet, the smell of his wound agitating the females. Jaul rumbled in satisfaction. His answer came out in a broken hiss.

"Au-Auran."

"So that's what that little kalai whispered to you," Jaul growled.

Auran watched the Mistress' legs tense slightly, then move closer to him. Bloody fingers lifted his chin, his amber eyes sweeping up her body until they connected with her bright jades.

"Little Auran," she purred, "All grown up."

She clicked in amusement as his eyes widened.

"Saa-e, I remember you, fearless little Tunnel rat. Without you, I would never have known which gate that cowardly worm Rathkha and his slave traders were trying to flee through. My vengeance would not have been complete without his death. Stand now. Let me see you."

Auran staggered to his feet, his arm on fire. He couldn't believe his luck. Unless the poison was causing him to hallucinate, in which case a cold dagger was about to embed itself into his heart at any moment.

"Ah, the poison," she remarked as she watched him sway. "It appears to have lost its potency."

She clicked at a Matron to order her a new vial, then reached inside her loose robes. The Mistress pulled his burning left arm towards her and injected the antidote into his upper arm. Auran shivered as the pain dulled, his thoughts clearing. Jaul growled in displeasure.

"Mistress, he is guilty of breaching your code. He brought a female here for his own, personal use. The little kalai bit me and attacked two guards, one of which is dead. If you will not kill him, kill that u'lau—"

"Be silent," hissed the Mistress. Jaul looked as if he'd been slapped, taking a step back. Her ice cold gaze appraised Jaul, her body rigid with pent up rage. A long, tense silence pervaded the room, the Matrons quietly shuffling back from the trio.

"Jaul, Jaul, Jaul, _Jaauuul…"_she sighed as she stepped towards him. "Your arrogance and incompetence offends me. And I cannot abide traitors to live. Auran…"

He tensed. Jaul growled.

"Kill him."

Jaul roared, grabbing his gun from his holster and fired off several shots. Auran batted the blazing cobalt balls of energy away with his sword as he charged, roaring as Jaul tossed his gun and unhooked his great hammer. Auran ducked the first swing, slicing at giant's abdomen before leaping away. Blood trickled from the shallow wound. Jaul ignored it, taking the weapon into both hands and lifting it overhead. Auran dodged, tucking and rolling. The great hammer slammed into the exact spot he'd stood a mere second ago, the stone floor shattering. Auran charged again, leaping aside as Jaul swung his hammer around. He staggered at the sudden shift of weight and Auran lunged, ducking a wild swing and burying his sword deep inside his thick gut. Jaul roared in pain and rage, dropping his hammer and grabbing Auran by the throat. He lifted him off his feet, Auran suffocating as Jaul's grip began to crush his windpipe. Black spots clouded his vision, his lungs burning. Auran reach for the knife hidden in his left vambrace and drew it, slicing it across Jaul's face. He roared, his grip weakening enough for Auran to gasp a small breath of air. He stabbed the hulking warrior in the eyes, collapsing to the floor when Jaul finally released him to clutch his ruined face. He screamed in pain, cursing Auran and the Mistress. Auran wheezed, his throat in agony as he struggled to get to his feet and away from the enraged guard. Auran's eyes widened as Jaul ripped the sword free, blood gushing from the wound. He sliced the air, searching for Auran, nearly taking his head. Auran ducked and slammed into him, knocking Jaul back through a curtain of water. Jaul fell, his flailing arms managing to drag Auran down with him. Sharp rocks jutted from the wall and Auran clamored at them for purchase, his hands and arms bleeding as the black rocks bit into his flesh. Auran spat water from his mouth as he quickly pulled his shoulders and head from beneath the waterfall, kicking away Jaul's searching grasp. He quickly backed away from the thin cascade, unsheathing the two short swords hidden in his shin guards, his gaze never leaving the spot Jaul fell through.

After a long moment, Auran slowly crept to the side entrance, peering around the water bearer's waist as he stepped onto the flat bridge. Auran lowered his swords, relief settling over him. Jaul's corpse twitched as dozens of glow fish tore at his tough flesh. He tucked the blades back into their hiding places and made his way back to the Mistress, still standing in the same spot he left her. She propped an elbow over a fist, forefinger tapping her cheek.

"Impressive. I hadn't expected it to end so quickly."

Auran said nothing, his throat still sore.

"Ajenke, the screen." The youngest of the matrons pulled the data from her bracelet and gently flicked it towards the Mistress. The orange screen Auran recalled when he'd first entered reappeared and it soon became clear why it had been taken down so quickly. The Mistress stood beside him, arms crossed, her gaze serious.

"Jaul was acting as a middleman for a new drug that's being introduced to Kuuroch. It's called xashi. The high apparently lasts for days with few side effects. At first. Frequent users eventually succumb to hallucinations and violent mood swings. Most die before they go blind. If they manage to survive they're subjected to waking nightmares that only get worse when they sleep. Lack of sleep and suicide finishes off the rest."

Auran looked down at her. The mistress gave voice to his question.

"Why kill him when it would benefit us to know his contacts?" She tapped the screen and a list of names and profiles scrolled down.

"Dealers are on the right, consumers on the left. About of a third of the guards will need to be purged. This drug isn't just competition, it's a virus. And it's infecting the Tunnels. I've already contacted the other six districts and ordered the immediate execution of anyone suspected of using or selling xashi. This district is the worst of them, which is why I'm here. Unfortunately, I can't personally send each of those traitorous bastards to hell. Which is where you come in. I need loyal guards like you."

A matron bowed her head and stepped forward.

"Speak," clicked the Mistress.

"Let your decision stand in this matter, the warrior has proven his worth. But the issue of him owning a female… will create problems," finished the female as she raised her head.

Auran cocked his head. Decision? To let him live?

"An issue to discuss after second sun's light." The Mistress waved the older female back.

"Oh, by the way, you will be replacing Jaul," she announced suddenly, turning to face him. Auran's surprised growl cut off as pain racked his throat. He clutched at it, wincing. She smiled, eyes narrowing.

"Rest tonight. Return to me tomorrow to begin your duties as Captain. You and the other two captains will begin the purge of the Midnight Blossom." Ajenke took down the data screen, pushing the bracelet back beneath the folds of her wide sleeves.

"Matron Hesra."

A severe looking female stepped forward.

"Escort… Zeyin to the healers." The female bowed her head and stood on the other side of Auran, beckoning him to follow.

"Nadhiya," he managed to croak, recalling the name of the healer taking care of Ahandra. The Mistress smile darkened.

"Of course."

"My sword?"

"Will be cleansed," clicked Hesra, pulling him away.

Auran followed the Matron out, certain his 'good' fortune was probably going to get him killed.


	13. Scars

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Eshe – **EH-shey – hush, peace

**Firendi – **fih-REN-dee – wild one

**Saask – **SAASK

**Rrek'ne – **RRECK-nay

**Ulochna – **OO-lock**-**nah

**Yeshii'ra – **yeh-SHEE-rah – formal for sister or female companion

* * *

**Scars**

* * *

Tyler shot up, eyes wide. Desperate, shivering gasps wracked her body and trembling hands clutched her face, frantically rubbing away the blood pouring from her irises. Everything was red. He'd carved out her eyes. He was alive!

Someone was next to her, pulling her hands away.

"Get away! Get the hell away! Nadhiya!"

"Ahandra! What happened to your eyes? Give me your hands—" Tyler wrenched away. He was going to pin her down. She clawed at him, tearing at his chest. Warmth flowed beneath her nails.

"I said leave me a—"

A sharp crack across her face left her stunned.

The thundering of her heart silenced, the blood trance vanishing in an instant. Tyler slumped against the wall, flickers of golden sparks dancing across her vision. She could smell the blood. Nadhiya's blood. Pain lanced through her chest as a broken sob wrenched its way from her throat.

"Ahandra…" sighed Nadhiya, her cool hands cupping Tyler's face. Tyler couldn't look her in the eyes. "It's alright. You're safe. Do you know where you are?"

"Yes," croaked Tyler. Shame churned her stomach. How could she lose control like that?

"Nadhiya?" A healer burst into the room, tranq gun in hand. "What's going on?"

"Eshe, Rrek'ne."

"But you're bleeding!"

"I know."

"Did the firendi attack you again?" Firendi. Wild one. A derogatory slur for those who'd rejected technology and ran wild in the dark jungles hugging the massive walls of Kuuroch. It hadn't meant much before.

"Fetch the ulochna mixture," clicked Nadhiya. Tyler's gaze flicked to Rrek'ne. The healer's mandibles drew back in a snarl when their eyes met. Rrek'ne swept from the room, growling under her breath.

"Ignore her. She hasn't slept in a while."

"She's right."

"Eshe."

"I hurt you Nadhiya!" Tyler leaned forward, jabbing her finger at the warm trails of blood slithering down her chest.

"Eshe now or I'll numb your tongue."

Tyler growled but kept silent. Nadhiya didn't make empty threats. And she enjoyed trying out new medicinal concoctions on patients whenever she got the chance.

The healer rumbled with satisfaction and turned her attention to the cool bandages she'd tied around Tyler's ribs, peeling back the cold, sticky layers to reveal the angry dark purple splotches swelling beneath the skin. Beneath the numbing stiffness Tyler felt the dull throbbing pain and based on Nadhiya's tightened mandibles, she bet she'd re-fractured a couple ribs during her panic.

"Nnn… a day of healing perhaps was undone."

"Well, it doesn't feel as bad as it looks," Tyler said, trying to smile. If she thought about it too much she could never get her mandibles to move the right way. Each one seemed to have a mind of its own.

Tyler cursed as a sharp sting bit into her ribs.

Nadhiya held up her thumb in front of Tyler's face.

"You are a terrible liar yeshii'ra," she clicked. "You are still in great pain. Your dreams burden your body. Why you take this burden upon yourself, I do not know. What I do know is that you cannot endure this alone. We sisters of the Midnight Blossom share our burdens. Where others stand alone and fall, our combined strength allows us to thrive in the shadow of Kuuroch."

Tyler growled. "I am not like you, Nadhiya. I am not like any of the females here. I don't even have to speak and others know I am different…" Tyler trailed off and looked away when Rrek'ne stepped into the room. She heaved a grateful sigh when the female left without a sound. Tyler shifted back onto her pallet, avoiding Nadhiya's expectant gaze. Those brilliant ruby eyes seemed to see right through her, burning through the layers of obstinacy.

"Deep wounds take many days to heal," murmured Nadhiya. She inspected the vial Rrek'ne left, tilting it side to side with slow, methodical flicks of her wrist, her cat-like eyes focused on the trapped bubble within. "I remember a young female, lying in a ditch, mangled and starving. Her hair was gouged and sliced from her head, dozens stab wounds decorated her flesh and blood caked the inside of her thighs. A mob of males had tortured her for hours and then left her there to die in the cold darkness of the Tunnels. She laid there for many long moments, wishing death would find her and bring her peace."

The image of Tchath'ka pressing down against her body, knife in hand, set a cold weight in her stomach and Tyler shivered. "What happened to the female? Did you heal her?"

"…yan." The vial lay still in Nadhiya's fingers as she stared off into the distance. "Time healed her."

Tyler's brow furrowed in confusion.

Nadhiya took a deep breath suddenly, hand clutched to her stomach.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?" Tyler gestured towards the claw marks. Nadhiya glanced down at her chest.

"Scratches." She poured the syrupy ulochna into her palm, gently spreading it over the cuts.

"Thank God. I thought I was going to have to drink that."

Nadhiya smirked, wincing slightly as the medicine burned into her open flesh. "I would not recommend ingesting sealant. The stomach cramps are terrible."

Tyler watched Nadhiya smear it over the thin red lines. Angry welts spread from each like buried roots digging beneath the skin. Tyler squinted. She hadn't done those, had she? With each passing second more and more of the jagged amaranth lines puffed in irritation beneath the glowing stripes. She squinted harder, trying to see the details her eyes stubbornly refused to gather. She definitely hadn't done those. Those were old. Tyler's eyes ran over Nadhiya's chest and arms. The thin trails of faint, discolored stripes and spots haphazardly decorated her pale skin. Tyler quickly glanced at Nadhiya's hair, usually covered with a thick scarf. Thin, uneven tendrils of hair wobbled to her shoulders, many ends stunted and flat.

"It was you," she murmured. "You were the female."

Nadhiya snapped the cap back on the half empty vial and inserted it into a hover tray, the drone beeping in acknowledgement before whisking its burden back into storage in silence.

"Indeed. And do you know why I sit before you now?"

Tyler shrugged hesitantly as she answered, "Someone saved you?"

"I am alive today because I had others to rely on. Had I been left to myself I would've passed through the veil. You fought Tchath'ka, saa?"

Tyler's chest tightened in anxiety, her aching lungs drawing in a shuddering breath. She glanced at Nadhiya's scars, faded and fresh. "Saa."

"Did you overcome him yourself? Did you deliver the killing blow and then patch your wounds?"

Nightmare blurred with memory in a rush of fear. The stinging of the blade dragging over her skin as he leered at her, his hot rancid breath making her want to gag. The silver blade hovering over her eye. His body crushing her thighs. Red hot veins throbbed around her eyes, drumming to the relentless beat of anguish and leftover adrenaline.

"…andra?" Tyler closed her eyes and tried to massage away the tension.

"Ahandra. Are you alright? Let me see your eyes, you keep rubbing them."

"I can't cry."

"What?" Nadhiya looked at her, confused.

"Nothing." Tyler sighed, the confirmation she would never shed tears again only making her want to cry more. "You're right. I-I've just felt so alone. I see his face every time I close my eyes or hear a strange noise. I've seen things, horrible things, but they were always at a distance. They always happened to someone else. How did you deal with it?"

"I didn't." Nadhiya stared at Tyler, her blood red eyes crystallizing, hate, anger and fear rippling over her mandibles and deep into the fibers of her scarred body. "I will _never_ forget those moments. And neither will you. You will see his face in the shadows. You will hear his voice in the silence." Her voice dropped to a hiss. "And you will feel him the darkness."

Tyler stared, trembling nails digging into the bones of her knees.

"Time… time will numb the pain. That and warm jug of saask."

Tyler drew in a shuddering breath, finally unlatching her talons, pinpricks of light prickling across her kneecaps. "Could you tell me something?"

Anger boiled beneath the healer's grim exterior as she nodded.

"You mentioned relying on others. Um, Aur— uh, Zeyin confuses me. He locks me up for days, doesn't talk to me and then saves me and defends me. I just don't understand. I want to trust him but… I just don't know."

Nadhiya gazed at her flatly. "What does it matter? He has done his duty."

"Well, is that normal?"

"Depends on the male, and the clan he hails from. In the Tunnels, males take what they can get, whether their female is silent or screaming." Nadhiya stood and turned away from Tyler, tapping a few keys on the glowing wall monitor.

Tyler hissed in frustration, rubbing at her eye, the burning tension not yet subsided.

"The Midnight Blossom is your home now and you have many sisters and mothers who will care for you," Nadhiya continued, facing Tyler, the hard edge returning to her voice. "Remember this."

Tyler clicked an obligatory affirmative. Clearly the discussion was over.

"I will pray to the Goddess to guide your mind as it drifts between worlds. It would be unwise to leave it unguarded, especially when it is so vulnerable."

Tyler drew her claws gently between her collar bones, the bare skin a reminder of the loss of her precious talisman. Nadhiya dimmed the lights as Tyler settled beneath the sheets. She was halfway out when Tyler called to her. "Nadhiya."

"Saa?"

"I'm sorry."

Nadhiya chittered. "Eshe. The past belongs in the past."

"Also, you said I could trust those here at the Midnight Blossom. What about, um, Zeyin?"

"What of him? He is male. They are a fickle, brooding lot with only three things on their mind: fighting, mating and power."

This was pointless. But who could she talk to? Rrek'ne? Chh, the healer would rather drink poison than listen to her problems.

"It's just… The way he held me Nadhiya, after saving me. He'd never held me that way before. And when he purred… I felt safe. But now I don't know what to feel."

Nadhiya's grip on the door panel tightened. "He purred?"

"I think so."

Nadhiya stood in the shadows, her eyes forming narrow slights, ruby light glowing within. After a long moment of silence, she spoke, her tone hushed carrying a note of warning in her voice. "Beware your confusion, young Ahandra. Do your duty as bond mate and come when he calls, but ask no more of yourself. Be content with his protection and honor him with children. To desire anything more would destroy you. The deep bond is a curse only fools seek."

Tyler began to sit up, ignoring her protesting ribs. "The what? Nadhiya."

She was gone. Tyler laid back and stared into the darkness. What in the world? All she wanted to know was how to understand Auran. Instead, she was given a warning to stay away? Pain pricked her eyes. Tyler growled and rubbed them, shifting restlessly. None of it made any sense. Nadhiya was usually so straightforward. Now she was warding her mind against dream demons and curses. Tyler laid down, exhaustion seeping from her bones. But her mind remained restless. She tossed and turned, real and imaginary lumps digging into her thighs and back.

_Auran._

She hadn't seen him since he left to face the Mistress. Nadhiya either knew nothing of his whereabouts or refused to tell.

Tyler curled onto her side, the pallet cool against her hot flesh.

The only reason she cared because he'd saved her life. She owed him. That was all. Maybe Nadhiya was right. Maybe she should just do her duty. That's what it was all about. Sacrificing what she wanted for the greater good.

Without the healer's presence, loneliness engulfed her. Tyler recalled the days she'd spent alone in the pleasure room, waiting for him to return, resigned to the fact that all he wanted her for was her body. But that was the deal after all. No pretense, no charade, no man saying one thing and doing another.

Tyler huffed. She couldn't believe she was actually concerned the person who'd pretty much held her captive. Talk about a pathetic case of Stockholm Syndrome.

She saw him above her in her mind's eye, strong shoulders, dreadlocks blending with his dark stripes trailing over his chestnut skin.

Tchath'ka's frothing jaws and blood red eyes looming over her.

Tyler flinched, curling into a ball. Shivers wracked her body and she clutched the edge of the pallet, desperate for a hold on reality. His visage taunted her, his crazed laughter and death threats echoing through her mind. Lightheaded fear enveloped Tyler, her heart fluttering wildly inside her ribcage.

She sucked in a deep breath, held it and released, repeating until Tchath'ka's image faded into the edges of her consciousness. The banished memory lurked at the edges of her mind, slippery as an eel, waiting to strike from the depths. It joined the ranks of many other nightmares from her past, grinning silently. She pushed them all away, reciting her favorite passage, Psalm 23. It was cliché, but it always worked.

One last shaking breath and Tyler opened her eyes, shivering softly. A soft sheen of sweat covered her body. She could feel the memory prowling, waiting, prodding her mind's defenses. _You can't avoid it forever. You'll remember it again. You're weak._

The venomous barbs grated Tyler's nerves. Hissing softly in frustration she stood, wrapping a thin blanket about her body, the fabric trailing past her knees. Sleep was out of the question. And she was done waiting.

She tiptoed down the short flight of stairs and silently made her way past the myriad healing rooms. Technically, she told herself, no one had forbidden her to leave. Last time she'd wandered, aimless and ignorant. This time was different. This time she had a purpose. She slipped through the beaded entrance, the glass beads and charms tinkling loudly in the silence. Tyler didn't pause to see if someone had heard, slipping away onto the darkened path.

Tyler crept along the darkened streets, darting around the pools of torchlight, pressing against the warm stone at the slightest noise. It was midday on the surface, which meant roughly midnight in the underground pleasure complex.

All paths lead to the heart of the Midnight Blossom, so Nadhiya had said. And it was there the Mistress dwelled.

Every so often she would stop at an intersection, looking for the tell-tale markers. The living quarters of the complex were supposedly concentric, with eight bisecting lanes running to the center. The reality, Tyler was quickly discovering, was much more complicated. Routes had circled back on themselves, pathways cut off at a dead end and the concentric rings twisted and curled through the smooth stone. For once her usually blurry, farsighted eyes were of some use. The near total darkness hardly fazed her, the light of random torches and glow spheres creating a flushed twilight.

Tyler smelled it before the fortress doors were even in sight, the sweet scents of jasmine and honeydew luring her down a winding tunnel, holo-strips set into the stone walls. A large stone slab barred her way and Tyler hesitated, unsure if this was indeed the place as Nadhiya had described. She glanced behind her, hyper aware of how narrow the corridor was and the ease with which a male could trap her down here. Second thoughts wriggled like worms around her brain, testing her defenses. What was she thinking? It wasn't safe here. Squelching her doubt, Tyler reached for the center of the spiral. This had to be done—

Tyler took a step back, warm air washing over her as the door peeled apart suddenly. Steeling herself, she gripped the folds of her makeshift dress and entered. She ignored the spiny glow fish prowling inches from the low bridge and the baleful eyes of the stone maidens.

A silky voice startled her once she reached the center of the chamber.

"Welcome. I've been expecting you."

Tyler looked around, but the wide hall was empty.

"Ajenke will guide you."

A female appeared, swathed in crimson and gold. Her beauty was immediately apparent. Smooth cheekbones highlighted almond eyes and a luxurious crest adorned her forehead, its graceful points like a natural tiara. Her opal eyes were fierce and proud, the air of gravitas she bore unable to mute their brilliance.

Tyler suddenly felt small and shabby.

"Come," said Ajenke. She turned away without another word.

Tyler raised her chin and followed after. There was no going back. This had to be done. Auran wanted to protect her and take the blame, but she couldn't let him shoulder all of it. Nadhiya had made one thing very clear; this was a female's realm. She either proved to the Mistress she could live in harmony or be forever cast as an outsider.

She certainly wasn't going to be dragged around like a child anymore.

Ajenke led her into a warm chamber, large cushions lining the edges . Scrolls and data plates filled the shelves carved into the wall. The Mistress stood at the far end, flanked by a tall male in jet black cloth and featureless mask. A smile that did not touch her eyes spreading across her face as soon as Tyler came into view.

"Welcome. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you."


	14. Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**A big, big, BIG thank you for all the reviews! I absolutely love the feedback. It was great to hear so many different perspectives and it really helps motivate me to write. And I'm really going to appreciate everyone's reviews even more since Krivo (my wonderful, fantastic beta reader) is swamped with school and no longer has time to edit my chapters (weeps). Not sure if I want to get a new beta reader this far into the game but we'll see... For now, please enjoy Chapter 14 and let me know what you liked and/or didn't like.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**h'ksa-la –**hek-suh-LAH**–**a powerful drug

**Rrourk –** RROARK

* * *

**Bodyguard**

* * *

Tyler quickly masked her surprise.

This was a test. She felt sure of it. If the Mistress wanted her dead, she'd had a thousand chances already. Showing weakness would give her the excuse she needed. With Auran gone, the Mistress had nothing to fear.

Tyler took a final step forward, planted her feet and took a deep breath. Time to call her bluff.

"I don't need to," growled Tyler, lifting her chin slightly. Ajenke made a soft gasping noise. "You won't because you're not who you pretend to be." The Mistress made no move and neither did her tall shadow. "I've heard the stories and rumors. The whispered warnings. I believed them… until now. No one could tell me of any who'd been punished. Of any who's tongue was cut from their mouths or eyes gouged out of their sockets. And I realized that you didn't have to do any of that. Your Matrons weave these tales and everyone retells them to each other until they believe."

"Furthermore," she growled cutting off Ajenke's hiss of disapproval, "Despite running a whore house, you actually care about those under your protection. But if they knew that, then your enemies would find out and both would start taking advantage of you. So you hide behind a mask of cruelty and lies. That's why you haven't laid a hand on me nor will you now."

Blood thundered in her veins as the last few words escaped her mouth, silence engulfing the room. Just behind her, Tyler could feel the heat of Ajenke's fury rolling off in waves. The Mistress hadn't moved, an icy grimness settling over her with each syllable uttered. A touch of fear lodged in her heart and Tyler felt her certainty begin to leech away.

A cruel smile spread beneath the Mistress' piercing eyes and Tyler felt cold sludge drop into her gut. Steel gray eyes rooted her where she stood and Tyler dare not look away. She was walking the razor's edge and her feet were bleeding. Stumble now and it would be all over before it had begun.

The Mistress drew out her words, as if savoring them.

"Such spirit, wouldn't you agree Sef?" The dark warrior said nothing and Tyler could not tell if he'd moved. He was entirely cloaked in a black armor and cloth that blocked his body heat, reflecting just enough warmth to where he didn't appear like a humanoid black hole. It was perfect for blending into the walls and shadowed corners. Tyler would've missed him had it not been for the waves of heat from the torch above rolling over him, like a boulder beneath a waterfall. _Did he do that on purpose?_

"Do you remember Jaul?"

Tyler nodded slowly, worried at the direction this line of questioning was taking.

"He thought me soft too. Thought he'd… take advantage, as you said, of my generosity. Do you know what happened to him?" Tyler said nothing, steeling herself in order to remain as passive as possible. "He died with a sword buried in his gut as my pets feasted on his flesh."

"I almost find myself not wanting to kill you. You are," she closed her eyes and shook her head, "an exceptional creature. I've never seen one like you."

"But then you move." She nearly spat her words, her grating hiss like a knife stabbing into rock. "Then you speak. You are wrong and I don't know why. I do not like that. Information is worth more than the purest of h'ksa-la." The Mistress cocked her head to the side. "I would rather know what you mean rather have you disposed of but… I'd need a reason for that wouldn't I?"

Her words tumbled around in Tyler's head. They made little sense. Did she want her dead or not? Didn't she realize what Auran would do when he found out the Mistress had ordered her death?

Suddenly the Mistress shot off a terse sentence, full of rapid clicks and whistles, reaching towards Tyler and curling her claws into a fist.

_What the—_

Tyler ducked the knife, wincing as it cut across her cheek. _Ajenke!_She stumbled backwards, dropping her hold on the sheet to shield herself. The short blade dug into her arm and Ajenke ripped it out sideways. Tyler roared with pain. Ajenke lashed out, hissing as she cut and sliced at Tyler's arms. Blood flowed freely, slithering down her arms and spattering onto the floor. Tyler feinted left and spun around Ajenke's thrust, darting to the other side of the room. Tyler's bruised ribs bit into side, sucking away her breath. The sheer energy of Ajenke's assault was forcing her on the defensive. Ajenke chased after her with the fury of a whirlwind, jabbing and slashing the knife with abandon. Tyler danced just out harm's reach, her opponent off-balance, the large knife cumbersome in her inexperienced hands. She was making up for lack of skill with aggression, Tyler realized. Ajenke rotated the blade until it pointed towards the floor. When she raised it to strike Tyler saw her opening.

She batted away Ajenke's thrust and punched with all of her strength. Mandible bone crunched beneath her bloody fist and Ajenke staggered back, growling in rage and pain. A round house kick sent her spinning to the floor. Tyler pounced, climbing on top and ripping the knife free. Ajenke's squirming ceased the moment Tyler pressed the blade against her throat.

"I dare you to move," Tyler hissed into her ear. She didn't bother enjoying her attacker's discomfort, her eyes trained on the near invisible Sef only a few yards away. He hadn't moved a muscle. She shifted her gaze to the Mistress, muscles tensing as her hand clamped tighter on the grooved handle. What if she had to kill Ajenke? What if she refused? Adrenaline rushed through her system, muscles bunching as she pressed the knife against Ajenke's gasping windpipe. She hated killing like this, feeling another person's blood run over her skin, watching their life spark drain. How many people had she sent to Hell?

"Stop."

Tyler looked up, doing her best to hide her shaking hand. The Mistress stepped forward and Tyler growled as she pressed the knife harder against Ajenke's throat, pulling her head back until she moaned. "Why should I?"

The Mistress growled, knuckles turning white as her claws dug into the expensive red silks that draped her body and for the first time Tyler saw uncertainty enter those icy gray eyes.

"No, let her kill me," Ajenke struggled beneath her, arms pinned under Tyler's knees. "I have failed you. Let me die honorably."

"No."

"You can't do that! You can't take that away from me!"

"You will do as you're told," the Mistress hissed, ignoring her curses as she looked up at Tyler. "Please let my daughter go."

The knife went slack in her hand before Tyler was even aware. She carefully and quickly stood and stepped away. Ajenke sat up, shoulders slumped. When she looked up, cold hatred burned in her scarlet eyes. The Mistress refused to acknowledge her ingratitude, or even the fact that she existed. As if the failure had never happened.

"You've proven yourself tonight, strange Ahandra." Tyler glanced at the Mistress warily. What else did she want?

"So… I'm free to go?"

"Saa… and was a test for both of you. Ajenke wished to prove she was strong enough to operate without a detachment of male warriors. Everything and everyone must have a purpose in my realm. You belong to Auran, so you cannot dance for and bed customers and you have no practical skills whatsoever. You do however, possess an ability few females are allowed or willing to learn: the ability to fight. Since you defeated my daughter, you will serve as Ajenke's bodyguard for as long as I see fit."

"What!"

"What!"

Tyler and Ajenke blurted out their shock in unison, Ajenke scowling when their eyes met. She watched the defeated female gingerly touch her swollen face and contorted mandible. Several females rushed in, pushing Tyler aside and huddling around her, chittering hisses escaping their lips as they saw the damage Tyler had inflicted upon Ajenke's face. Ajenke shoved them all away and stalked out of the room, mustering as much dignity as possible.

Tyler couldn't believe she had to play babysitter. For a moment, Tyler wondered if that was how Auran felt about her outbursts. Grimacing, Tyler picked up the crumpled sheet and cut it in half, gingerly drying her bloody arms with one half before tying the other around her waist, securing the blade at her hip. Might as well keep it.

When Tyler turned around the Mistress had vanished. Sef slowly detached himself from the wall, as if invisible roots and vines clung to him. His movements were fluid and reality seemed to warp around him. He gestured towards a side door that had not been there a moment before. The warrior turned without a sound and ducked into the darkened tunnel. Tyler followed the faded trail of warm footprints and the outline of his body, a dark shadow flickering in the cool, darkened tunnel. The small, smooth tunnel branched into dozens of similar tunnels, but her silent guide never wavered, his footsteps sure and steady. Goosebumps shivered up Tyler's arms as she recalled her horrible nightmare and the monster that had chased her through a dark labyrinth eerily similar to this one. After long moments, Sef stopped suddenly and placed his hand on the tunnel wall. Heat and light burst through the seam as the tunnel wall split open.

Warm, dry air washed over her as she stepped onto the rough stone floor. The room spread out on either side, the circular arena framed by a second level, a wide staircase cutting the crescent shaped upper tier in half. Wickedly curved blades, fanged axes and dozens of other exotic weapons Tyler had never seen before decorated the walls. Heat rippled from the communal fire pit at the center, the boiling coals like fat, glowing tomatoes spitting sparks. After the chill of the tunnels, the warmth beckoned her. She yawned, stretching to relieve the ache of exhaustion. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a booming voice growled through the main entryway.

"Get ya gear stowed and yer asses on the ground! Pray yer asleep in five turns or I'll make you take the next five shifts and then maybe you'll be tired." A ragtag group of warriors scurried to shed their gear and shelve it in the correct slots that opened behind the walls of weapons. The loud giant warrior with red hair grabbed a grumbling male by the head and spun him around. "What was that? People tryin' ta sleep? I don't give a damn! In fact, I'm going to make sure everyone hears my sweet voice until yer all in that shit pile you call a bed. I've never seen such a filthy bunch of…" The males stumbled into their room, cursing their companion for his stupidity. Tyler gaped at the whole scene. She might as well have been back at basic training. Then she realized she was attracting unwanted attention. A few older males, obvious veterans judging from the plethora of scars, tattoos and larger muscles, sauntered forward, surrounding her.

"What's this doin' here?"

"Ya get lost little flower?"

"I think the Bloody Virgin's finally given us a scrap from her table."

The males elbowed each other closer, clicking in appreciation as they looked her up and down. The room suddenly felt hot. Sweat dripped down her back. Tchath'ka's raspy voice hissed in her ear. Her hand itched for the knife tucked next to her thigh. She bared her fangs as one the males reached towards her—

"What in the Nameless God is goin' on here! Get in there with yer clicks or I'll break yer necks and make someone else my seconds." The warriors quickly slunk away without another word.

Any relief Tyler felt was short lived. The roaring giant stood head and shoulders above her, ochre striped arms crossed over his barrel chest as he looked down at her with stern golden eyes. He leaned down slightly and Tyler could smell trace amounts of blood wafting off his bronze skin.

"And who might you be?" he rumbled. She glared back at him with a defiance she did not feel. "Ahandra." She was glad she'd managed to sound confident after nearly swallowing her tongue.

"Ah-HAHN-drah," he sounded out, leaning back in thought. "So you are not a flower."

Tyler nearly snorted, placing her hands on her hips. "Of course not." Was a flower a prostitute?

The warrior who guided her to this place approached. Tyler marveled at how pale his skin was compared to everyone else's, the contrast even sharper paired with the sparse black armor he wore. As if he'd never seen the sun. Dark, slitted eyes stared calmly at the pair, waiting to be acknowledged. The big warrior didn't see him. He was too busy acting tough while trying to get a look at her figure.

"Who brought you here?" She watched his eyes slide past her shoulders. If he were shorter she'd slap him.

"Sef," she growled tersely.

"Sef? Sef!" the giant warrior barked. "Where are – oh, there you are. What in the Nameless—" Sef motioned down with a flattened hand for him to lower his voice and the warrior begrudgingly obliged him, rolling his eyes as he continued. "Why is a fl- a female here? These recruits don't have the discipline yet to be anywhere near anything that resembles a female without killing each other, because they're too damn horny to know any damn sense and I have—" Sef cut him off before he started another tirade.

"Well then you best explain yerself." And Sef did. In sign language. Tyler watched the auburn hair giant go from confusion to amusement to exasperation in the span of ten seconds. It was exhausting to watch and Tyler already felt worn. The golden-eyed giant looked over towards her, eyes narrowed. "Since Sef says you'll be stayin' with us fer quite some time, I have only one rule fer ya: stay away from the new recruits."

"And whom am I to thank for such advice?" she asked.

"Rrourk, Captain of the Second," he growled, before stalking out of the room. A quiet stillness settled the moment the echo of his footsteps faded. Tyler huffed and turned to Sef.

"I assume you're a captain then?" Sef nodded, his sharp expression revealing nothing, looking away after a moment. Tyler followed his gaze up the stairs. She could just make out a door. She glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. _You want me to go up there?_When she made it to the door, she looked back for confirmation, but Sef nowhere in sight. Half sighing, half yawning, she pressed her hand against the door, and stepped inside. Fear flashed in her heart at the sight of the glowing male lying on the floor and for a second she thought she'd been tricked. Then she sniffed and drew in a sigh of relief, creeping up on the slumbering male to be sure. The scents of cinnamon and ash. Auran. Sealant and bandages covered his arms and chest. He hadn't awoken when she entered. Which probably meant he'd been either knocked out with painkillers or was extremely exhausted.

Emotions tumbled over one another as she watched him sleep. She hated this place. Hated those males who reminded her of Tchath'ka. Loved the rush of combat as she defeated Ajenke. Loved the ability to smell scents she'd never imagined existed. Hated the pain in her ribs. Wanted her bed and the smell of her mom's breakfast casserole when she woke. Wanted to see Sonya run with her new legs.

_Stop that! You're dead, remember?_ Another thought whispered in the back of her mind: she wasn't dead. _So what does that make me?_

Tyler glanced at the small bed, Auran splayed out, dwarfing the pallet. The only other place to sleep was the floor. Tyler walked towards the corner, stopped halfway, turned around, glancing between the pallet and cold corner. Indecision weighed down on her. Tension burned inside her sockets and she kneaded her eyes, desperately pushing back the pain. She cried a silent prayer until the tension subsided and the cloud of indecision lifted. The knife clattered as it hit the wall, the bloody sheet crumpling on top of it. Tyler crawled onto the edge of the pallet then, slowly, pressed herself against his side, wrapping an arm around his chest to pull herself even closer. She sighed as his warmth melted into her skin. She drifted off to sleep, the vague thought of how strange it was to want to touch him and how much could change in a couple weeks.


	15. Ashes

**Author's Note: ***waves white flag from behind couch* Okay, before you shoot me, I had to get this out. This chapter idea bothered me and no matter how much I tried, it wouldn't go away. I know y'all wanted AhandraXAuran after last chapter but that's for the next one (I'm heartless sometimes, I know *dramatic despair*).

As always, please review or message me. All opinions are welcomed.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Choranthi – **koh-RAHN-thee

**E'rraya – **eh'RAI-yuh

**Firak – **FEE-rack

**Ga'oul** – gah-OOL

**Sa'arezan – **saa'EIR-ruh-zahn

**Sjaln – **SJAHLN

**Ssesserik** – SEHS-seh-rick

* * *

**Ashes**

* * *

Firak turned his milky irises to the sky, watching as the delicate Sa'arezan and her rings drew near the scarred and pitted horizon of Ga'oul, meteorites sparking across the sky as the two briefly embraced. Irenth, alone in the sky now that Feiren had set, silhouetted the two moons as she threw her orange and amaranth light across the billowing clouds. The sight was so entrancing Firak forgot for a moment he was almost blind, blinking in confusion when his vision refused to clear. Ah, well, he thought, settling into his fur covered chair. At least he could still see the warmth of the sun. One day, if he lived long enough, Ashann forbid it, he would only see the cold darkness of nothing.

'_Remember the dawn's light and have no fear_,' he muttered, tightening his grip on his smooth wooden staff.

"The Last Words of Ashann, first verse. Not many speak of those final moments."

"That is because the foolish fear the dead when it is the living they should beware," he growled softly to the young high priestess, glancing behind as she approached. Asharah pressed her two center fingers into the middle of her tattooed forehead in greeting, sitting across from the ancient high priest only a of couple arm lengths away, closer than normal out of respect for his waning sight.

"The dead should be honored—"

"By being _remembered._ I am surprised we haven't forgotten the God's messenger. Did he not die, sword less and alone? Hacked into a dozen pieces and head mounted on the spear of the dark god Chetanu? It happened, yet no one speaks of such a shameful end."

Asharah clenched her fists, heat flushing beneath her dark green skin. "The shame belongs to the Hunters. To speak so… so carelessly about such things borders on irreverence."

"So my priests keep telling me." Firak unclasped his hands and leaned forward on his forearms, wincing as flesh ground between bone and fur covered metal. "Forgive me, Asharah-kai. I did not ask you here to debate doctrine."

Asharah straightened her robe, uncurling and curling her mandibles in dismissal. "The aged must be heard before their words are lost."

Firak hid his smile. Still trying to argue her point while deferring to him. The late high priestess taught her pupil well. This was reassuring. The young female possessed the judgment and grace needed to face the coming storm. Soon, he was certain, he would leave this world and he needed to know there was someone in Kuuroch who would not bow to Shaidra's every whim. The arrogant Shan tended to ignore feminine politics, leaving the governance of the entire city to his bond mates whenever the males of the city mobilized for a crusade. Such an event would happen within the coming weeks. While Shaidra was away, Asharah could hopefully navigate the complexities of high blood politics and secure strong allies within the Thousand Blades' matriarchy. But before he could hope for her to accomplish any of that, he needed her to accept what he was about to reveal.

"I hear you paid the Singing Blades' speaker an unexpected visit."

"Saa."

"A bold move."

"A necessary move. The Thousand Blades' would not yield to my inquiries. Iyeiden is the liaison between the Singing Blades and Thousand Blades. My informants reported he has also become a close advisor to the Shan. Confronting him in public was guaranteed to generate interest in my cause and more information was bound to unravel."

"And what have you discovered?"

Asharah rumbled. "Not as much as I'd hoped. Iyeiden would have me believe a priestess, of the Choranthi sect no less, tried to kill the Shadow Stalker and his bond mate."

"Some would say the bloodline should be finished once and for all."

Ahsarah shook her head, dreadlocks shimmering in the lume light. "The Choranthi believe that all things are determined by the wills of the Creators and must be accepted."

"Foolishness."

"Agreed, but they are the most faithful of all the priestess sects. Especially E'rraya, the one accused of unauthorized killing." Asharah continued, a growl of frustration entering her words. "It troubles me, high priest. I do not want to believe one of my own capable of such things, but those who knew E'rraya… they say she was not herself the last few weeks. She'd become convinced through a vision that the Goddess had determined for her a dark purpose, one she did not want but had no choice but to follow. She should've been sent to me."

"You cannot blame yourself for every choice others make. It will lead to a desire to control and ultimately destruction. Save those who will listen."

"I am responsible for all the priestesses. Any spiritual disturbance will disrupt the balance. Is not our duty as kai to oversee temple purity in order to maintain that balance?"

"Nnn... I heard you purified the temple. What did you find?"

Asharah folded her arms, a silken sleeve slipping off her shoulder. "Rumors. The only reason I know about E'rraya is because someone slipped a note to one of my guards in coded fire ink. There is strange aura about the temple, a veil of unease that I cannot remove. The more I seek, the less I find." She unfolded her arms, slipping her sleeve back in place. "Why the interest in the affairs of my temple, high priest? Has Shaidra confessed something I should know? "

"I know much about the Shan. For all his flaws, he is a devoted follower of the God."

"That is not an answer."

"Are you ready to hear my words, high priestess? I wonder… they are sharp enough to draw blood. Many have died to protect what I am about to reveal."

"What is this? You speak in riddles like a Harcian."

"I know what fills your temple with fear. I know what infects Kuuroch, from the depths of its underworld to the highest spire."

"How do you know such things?"

"The Prophecy."

Asharah's brow furrowed.

"Your doubt is understandable—"

"Considering no one has seen the book in over a thousand years. How can you be sure it isn't a fraud?"

"Because it has begun. It was set in motion thirty years ago." A cold wind blew from the north, skittering leaves across the pale marble. Asharah's mandible's flared surprise. "You don't mean… not even you should speak of such a thing."

_'The stalemate broken, the Shadow doomed to wander.'_

"Enough, Firak-kai. The dishonored dead are gone. Do not invite their shame upon yourself."

"Do you wish to know the words of the Prophecy or not?" Firak growled, pulling himself up slowly, the weight of his long, white dreadlocks straining his dull, flattened crest. "I have very little time left to do what must be done, and to do it I must have your help. But I see fear in your eyes. If this is true, then go back to those comforting, mindless rituals. Drone and chant and purify. Meaningless! I'm trying to give you something real, something precious and you can't see it because you're blinded by edicts."

Asharah rose to her full height, matching him inch for inch, mandibles flaring. "I fear _nothing_ but the Goddess. Show me the book and I will judge for myself whether you are not a heretic. If you speak the truth, I will help you. But if not," she stepped forward, the cold night wind whipping her hair about like writhing snakes as blazing eyes bore into his. "I will kill you."

"So be it."

Firak turned away, not looking back over his stooped shoulder to see if she would follow. He could not smell them, but the high priestesses bodyguards were not far behind, likely wearing heat displacing armor. Through glazed sight he searched for the marks, the signs that revealed the path to the hidden door. No one, not even Gaidulus, knew of this chamber. It was a secret each high priest passed down to the next. Now, he would pass it on to Asharah. Gaidulus, his favored pupil, was not yet ready. Worn symbols grazed his weathered hands until they found the first of the sequence. His fingers jerked towards the symbols, straining against his will. He closed his eyes and relaxed, letting them search for the sequence without interference. The knowledge had been wiped from his memory. All that was left was the subconscious impulse of his nerves and ligaments.

"Watch closely. If you must ever enter here alone, you must know the sequence."

"What is this place?"

"It has no name. It exists, unchanged since the beginning."

"The beginning?" The entire wall groaned softly, tons of rock and metal shifting, until a dark gaping hole stretched before them. The sound of earth grinding continued to echo down the passage for several long moments.

"Of our civilization." Firak waved a hand over his staff and the crystal veins glowed with a hot, silver blue light. The symbols carved into the curving passage beyond responded to the crystal's light, glowing threads unraveling into the dark passage. Firak shuffled into immense doorway, not even glancing back. An invisible hand stopped Asharah from following after. The air blurred and shifted, the invisible armor melting away to reveal a large warrior with obsidian skin, the symbol for rage carved into his fanged helm.

"Just you," clicked Asharah, pushing his hand away. Rage said nothing, bringing up the rear.

The path led deep into the heart of the temple, the sparkling threads of blue light growing brighter with each turn. The deeper it went the narrower the walls became. Asharah felt her hands grow clammy. She hated small spaces. "How much further?"

"We're close. Just a few more… wait…"

"What's wrong?"

"It smells wrong."

As soon as the trio turned a corner the glowing threads and Firak's staff suddenly flickered and faded, plunging them into darkness. Asharah sucked in several deep breaths. Not the dark.

Bright red light blazed a trail through the darkness. She winced when Rage's helm light flashed across her vision. The laser light swished across the floor and walls, revealing great gouges carved into the sides of the tunnel, the crystalline threads ripped from the walls. Slime coated the floor.

"Iyan…"

"Firak-kai," Ahsarah stepped closer his faint outline, frozen in the middle of the tunnel. "What happened? I thought you said no one knew of this place."

"Iyan… iyan… it can't… he can't have…"

Asharah grabbed his cloak and pulled him slowly around. "Who can't have what?"

Rage rumbled, his lascannon humming to life on his shoulder. "We should leave. It is not safe."

With a cry, Firak shoved Asharah back and raced into the darkness.

"Firak!"

Nausea filled her stomach as she pulled her hand from a wad of mucus. Rage ripped off one of her sleeves to clean her. She could still hear the priest's moans of anguish.

"Kai, we must leave."

"Yan. We follow. If there is something threatening the God's and Goddess' servants I must know what it is."

"As you wish."

The shield captain drew his claymore and took the lead, slowly sweeping the tunnel, scanning for movement. At the crevice he slipped through first, a flash of yellow eyes signaling when it was safe for her to follow. Asharah's mandibles clenched as she took in the scene.

Claw and scorch marks bit into the walls, the luminescent veins of crystal torn from the walls here as well and shattered across the floor. A sweet, metallic scent cloyed at her. Blood. She lifted a foot, the dark ichor sucking at her sandal.

At the center of the destruction knelt Firak, surrounded by piles of blood soaked ashes.

"Firak-kai?"

"The Truth," he whispered.

"What?"

"The only thing that mattered… gone. I failed. Forgive me, I failed…"

Asharah ordered her guard to carry the priest. They needed to leave. She'd seen enough. Rage began to lift the high priest to his feet, gory sludge sliding off the old priest's limp legs, when he jerked suddenly, as if bitten. He barked sharp orders, half dragging, half carrying Firak out of the room. Asharah dashed after him. "What is it?"

"Enemies. Sjaln and Sseserik are defending the entryway."

"Go!"

"But I must protect you."

"I order you to assist them. Go now!"

Rage raced ahead, leaving her with a lumen stick. Firak weighed next to nothing, as if the life had been sapped from his bones. She grunted and heaved still, navigating the rock strewn corridor, the slime eating at her footing, biting into her skin. Curse this place. Curse every damn, dark hole in the universe!

She heaved a sigh of relief as light pulsed ahead of them. Rage had dropped the high priest's staff where the crystal strands remained intact. Firak was mumbling something, verses she'd never heard before. She struggled to listen as she hauled him up a steep incline. With each second, the elder's weight grew and Asharah cursed her indulgence in cushions and silks. She sucked in a deep breath for the final haul, gagging and choking in shock, nearly dropping him. With a cry she lifted him up and over, propping his aged frame against the wall. The deep passage groaned shut as soon as the crystal staff passed the threshold, but Asharah could not hear it over the howling pain in her chest.

The broken, twisted bodies and limbs of Sjaln and Sseserik littered the hallway. Organs spilled from headless torsos. Murals of blood and fluids dripped down the walls. She couldn't take her eyes off the gruesome sight. It shouldn't be possible. They were the strongest, fastest warriors of their kind. In the three hundred years of service, she could count the number of fallen temple shield guards on one hand. And yet two lay shredded, as if a twister made of blades torn into them.

A heavy rasping cut through the silence. The sound of a blade being dragged across the floor came from around the corner. Knife drawn, Ahsarah grabbed the old priest.

"Get up! We need to get out of here." Where was the captain?

"Save yourself." Firak pushed her away. "He wants me. Go to Iyeiden. Tell him I sent you and that he must tell you everything."

"Iyeiden is in league with the Shan!"

"You must trust me. Go!"

Asharah turned, hesitated.

"Go Asharah! Now!"

A hulking figure suddenly stumbled around the corner, crimson pouring from his stomach and jaw. He leaned against the wall, blood smears trailing behind him as he staggered towards them. Asharah breathed a sigh of relief and ran towards him.

Rage collapsed to the floor, clutching his stomach. Asharah ripped her robes and began wrapping them around his wound.

He moaned, struggling to rise, spittle and blood dangling from his mouth. "My sword… they took my sword."

"Stay down." He was losing too much blood. If she didn't get help soon she would lose another shield warrior.

"I have failed you. I abandoned you, dishonored the code, lost my sword… Let me join my brothers." He reached for her knife, but Asharah pulled it behind her back.

"Iyan. I need you. There are few I trust and you are witness to what happened here."

"I am not worthy. Without my sword or honor I am nothing!"

"Then redeem yourself! Avenge your brothers and take back your sword." Rage howled, clawing his face and chest. But he did not reach for the knife. Guilt tightened her chest. To deny him an honorable death was cruel and selfish. And she was not yet finished. "There is one more thing. We cannot let anyone know we were here. Who has it?" Rage refused to look at her.

"You are bound by blood oath to answer me. Who has it?"

"Sjaln."

Asharah dug around the carpet of limbs and organs until she found the object she needed. A glowing vial filled with blue liquid. She pressed it into each body, her feet soaked by the time she was through. Asharah stepped back, whispering a silent prayer as she sprayed a blue mist over the fallen. Within seconds, the bodies began to dissolve. Within a minute, not even armor or the blood that had stained the walls was left.

Firak winced as the high priestess lifted and shoved him against the wall, her face burning bright with anger.

"Tell me _everything_."

* * *

**\|/ ****-;' **

* * *

The city glittered orange and red in the twilight. The Master stroked the crystal bound book, admiring the intricate carvings as light bent and glittered across its myriad edges, each arc and whorl painstakingly designed down to a level the unaided eye could not even see. He wondered what was inside. But it was impossible to know. At least without the key. He laid it back on the stack of books beside his chair, caressing it, a cold smile peeling back his mandibles.

_Know despair, Firak. Know that whatever you do, wherever you go I will be waiting there for you. You will live to see this world burn._

A knock signaled Nadurak's return. The Master clipped on his mask and pulled his hood over before rising to greet him and their special guest.

"You've returned at last." Nadurak bowed low, grandly gesturing towards the young male framed in the torchlight. "Saa, great shan. And I've brought you someone. Someone who shares your abhorrence for the corruption taking place in Kuuroch."

"Does he?"

"I do," the young male said, stepping forward.

"And how can I be sure you aren't a spy?"

The young male held out his hand. "I will make a blood pact." The Master stifled a chuckle.

"I see you are serious." A dagger slid into his hand from beneath his sleeve. He sliced his hand, admiring the flood of warm vapor that burst from the wound. The young male followed suit, stretching out his hand without hesitation, his stance proud and defiant. Behind his mask the Master licked a mandible and clasped hands, grabbing the youth's arm with free hand. "Don't move."

"What are you doing?"

"Making sure you keep your word." The Master shuddered, grinning in pain as a synthetic worms slithered through his arm and into the youth's hand. The young male howled in pain, trying to rip free, but the Master held tight until he was sure the worm was in. The youth writhed, clawing at his shoulder and neck as the worm made its way into the lower brain and attached itself to the spine.

When the young male came to, he struggled to his feet, clumsily drawing his sword. "What did you do to me! What did you put inside me?"

"A guarantee that you will not betray me like you have done to Shaidra."

"I gave my word!"

"Which you've proven to be meaningless." The Master gestured to the chair across from him. "Come, sit." As if on cue, slaves whisked in from the shadows, delivering their platters in silence before disappearing as quickly as they appeared. The Master leaned into his chair, fingers steepled before him

The youth glared at him. The Master sighed like a parent dealing with a stubborn child. "I suppose it was a bit rude of me too deceive you so, but if I am to trust you I must be sure. Shaidra is… cunning. He has eyes everywhere. And I have been betrayed one too many times."

The young sneered at the mention of Shaidra's name. "Saa, his hand corrupts everything he touches."

"We will stop him."

The youth sat. "How?"

"I will reveal all in time. For now, eat and drink. You will feel better." The young male warily picked at the chunks of steaming meat, as if at any moment something might slither down his throat. Nadurak chuckled in the corner, a wild grin stretching his pitted face. The youth finished his meal as was custom with a drink, coughing as he swallowed. "Wh-ah-what is this? I've never tasted a drink like this."

"Mmm, it's a drink from the East. It's… an acquired taste."

The youth finished it out of politeness, grimacing as he swallowed the last drops. The Master called after him. "What is your name, young warrior?"

The youth looked back, pride swelling his chest. "Raienthril of the Red Claw."

"May the God shield you."

"May his light guide you."

Nadurak chuckles turned into wheezing hisses as soon as the youth departed. The Master ignored his sycophant's amusement, grabbing the glass and downing the rest of the contents. His mandibles flexed in satisfaction.

"Nothing tastes so sweet as the blood of one's enemies," he rumbled out loud, reaching absentmindedly to stroke the crystal book beside him.


	16. N'tharralis

**Author's Note:** Two things before we get started: First, speederina is my new beta reader! Much thanks to her for helping me and catching all my mistakes. Secondly, section dividers are now horizontal lines (which I just discovered because speederina pointed them out and they're _amazing_!) because I have a sneaking suspicion no one really knew what I was trying to imitate the last 10 chapters. Feel free to speculate in the review section. I don't have prize but if you really want one I'll try and come up with something :)

Anyway, read, review, rant. It's all good.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**N'tharralis** – nuh-THARR-uh-liss

* * *

**N'tharralis**

* * *

Bleary-eyed and sore, Tyler softly groaned as reality settled in. She'd never been a morning person. The events of yesterday clamored for attention, and she didn't have any coffee to focus her mind. As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly. Tyler couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. The thought of food sent another round of gurgles churning through her gut, louder than before. She growled back, unsure if she was more tired than starved. Auran's arm made a surprisingly comfortable pillow. A long, low snarl snaked through her stomach. Dozing, apparently, was out of the question.

His other arm was wrapped around her torso, his warm body pressed against her aching back muscles. The gesture was sweet, even if unintended. Tyler tried gently wriggling away, gripping the edge of the bed to drag herself out from beneath. His arm reflexively tightened, squeezing her against his chest. She gasped a curse. It was like a steel vice had clamped around her lungs. Her feet flailed, but the more she moved, the tighter Auran held her. Reality quickly crystallized.

Escape was futile.

Her stomach moaned in despair. Hungry as she was, the tender – _I can't believe I'm using that word to describe him –_gesture was too good to ruin. A few more minutes of sleep couldn't hurt…

"Zeyin!"

Her pillow arm snapped against her ribs and Tyler cried out in pain and surprise. The arm that had trapped her a mere blissful second ago angrily hummed with the pent up energy of a wrist cannon. A low rumble vibrated through her as Auran growled at the intruder.

"Mind turnin' that thing off?" A red triangle centered on Rrourk's chest. The captain placed his hands on his waist, annoyed. He was smart enough not to even glance at Tyler.

"Yes. What the hell do you want?" Apparently, Auran wasn't a morning person either. Which would've been funny… if he hadn't had a gun strapped to his arm.

"Both of you. You're wanted in the council chamber and she's scheduled for attendant duty."

"What are you talking about? I'm in no mood for jokes." Despite his anger, the wrist cannon began to power down and Auran's muscles relaxed a fraction.

"I don't joke. Ask her yerself." His eyes met Tyler's for a fraction of a second before he looked away. She didn't like what she saw there. A small knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. What would Auran do when she told him?

Auran pulled his arm from beneath her, dropping her onto her back. He was unbearably close. His burning skin pressed onto her right side, his arm barring escape on the other. His dark, brooding face took up almost her entire field of vision. Tyler held his amber gaze, resisting the instinct to draw her arms to her chest. A strange feeling flared inside her, disappearing beneath a dozen other thoughts before she could analyze it. Auran broke the silence.

"You didn't stay."

"I couldn't let you take the blame."

Auran growled and shook his head. "Why didn't you stay? Why don't you _ever_ stay?"

"You were gone. You left and you were gone. What was I suppose to do? Wait? I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of being told what to do. I don't even know why I'm here!"

"You were supposed to be healing."

"I'm done healing." He didn't even bother looking at her to see if she was lying.

"What did you do?"

Tyler sighed and explained everything, from the nightmares, to the Mistress, to her confrontation with Ajenke. Auran's expression grew darker, twisting into a snarl as Tyler described Ajenke's surprise attack. He pushed off the bed, pacing restlessly around the small room.

"So, after everything, after I'd warned you to stay hidden, you decided to ignore all of that and confront one of the deadliest underworld gang leaders in all of Kuuroch?"

"I could say the same for you," Tyler snapped, pushing off the pallet and standing toe-to-toe with Auran. "And I didn't choose to work for the Mistress. It was protect Ajenke or die. She didn't care what you told her, she was going to come after me anyway. You say you want to protect me, yet you brought me to what appears to be the most unsafe place a female could possibly be!"

Auran growled again, but made no move. Emboldened, Tyler growled back. She was getting her answers now.

* * *

**-;' \-' '|,**

* * *

Auran grabbed Tyler's arm before she plunged into abyss below. Bones and gravel slid beneath her and poured over the lip of the hole. Her feet and shins dug into the slippery wet sludge beneath. It smelt of decayed flesh and waste. With a grunt, Auran heaved her up and over the edge. She tried to keep from retching as she crawled away from the smothering stench pouring from the dark pit. Tyler checked herself for injuries as she stood, Auran hovering over her and checking for danger.

When he had promised her answers she hadn't pictured traversing death pits filled with bones.

"Why didn't I smell that?" she gasped, checking her mask's filter system. Auran had gone over the basics before they'd left the Midnight Blossom.

"A strong air current kept it downwind from us. Feel that?" He held his hand up, testing the air. Tyler stopped and focused. He was right. The strong wind that had blown down from the upper levels was gone. She looked back at the yawning pit that had nearly become her grave. Broken bones littered the edges, coated in the same grime that clung to her.

"Why are there so many bones?"

"It's a dumping ground. The Tunnel rats bring their waste here to dump, and also to relieve themselves. It keeps their nests clean. A dangerous gamble. Others may lie in wait to kill those who travel here."

"Why?"

Auran looked back at her, his metallic voice without sympathy. "To eat them."

Tyler took one last look around, a small shiver crawling up her spine. She'd seen and been in dark places before, but the Tunnels were something else entirely. Like that nightmare she'd had the first night she'd arrived on this world. Tyler set after Auran, adjusting her mask's settings. She wasn't going to be taken by surprise a second time.

Toppled pillars littered the long, broken passages like petrified trees in a dead forest. Headless statues of giants lay crushed beneath shattered stone and twisted metal. Auran zigzagged through semi-collapsed tunnels and dust filled sewers. The myriad caves suddenly began to make sense. The deeper they went, the more ruins they found. There must have been an entire city down here at one point. It was as if the city had built itself higher and higher, leaving behind these great ruins. But it didn't explain the destruction.

A narrow slit barely a foot wide was the only way through a once sweeping archway, crushed beneath a mountain of rubble. Tyler sucked in a shallow breath and slid through. On the other side, dim lights twinkled from the cavern's ceiling and high walls as warm bodies and small fires flickered in and out of view, piles of trash and bones littering the ground beneath. Small rodent-like animals scampered through the broken rocks and piles of waste. Tyler zoomed in on one with her mask for a closer look. The five-legged mammal with one glowing eye and patches of matted fur snorted and licked the ground. Its jagged teeth split at weird angles, like white antlers, cracking bone in one bite. The mutant creature and its kin grabbed their prizes and scurried into their holes as soon as they spotted her and Auran.

"Who are the rats?" Tyler chirped as they climbed a small mountain of jagged boulders blown from the cavern's side. She'd heard the term enough to know it didn't refer to the skittering monstrosities from a moment before. Auran leapt to the next great slab, Tyler rolling next to him a second later. He spoke as he scanned the area ahead. "They're the weak, the malformed and the degenerate. The clan system maintains strong bloodlines and ensures only the finest offspring carries the clan's name and honor. Down here, there is no code, no honor. Just interbred clans cannibalizing each other and the gangs that take advantage of them. They are everything the upper level despises." Tyler looked up. Pale faces peered through dirty cloth and twisted metal bars, their wide glowing eyes ghostly rubies in the darkness. Auran followed her gaze. "They're waiting to see if we'll step into their traps. Two healthy adults would make a fine meal." Tyler snapped her attention back in front of her. Falling to her death was one thing. Being cannibalized, quite another.

She matched Auran step for step to avoid the invisible snares and pitfalls. She could almost feel their burning hunger, the desperate hope that she might trip, fall and trigger a snare. Tyler breathed a small sigh of relief once they were through.

The winding tunnels slowly began to morph into hallways and high ovular passages. Laser blasts pitted the walls, whole sections shattered and melted by plasma bombs, the heat of the explosions was so violent and quick, the metal had morphed into shining, globular waves, frozen in time. Skeletons dotted the hallways, contorted bones crushed and blackened. Tyler picked up a blade resting next to a headless warrior, wiping away the thin layer of dust and grime with her hand. The iridescent black sword was in perfect condition. Auran had a sword just like it, she recalled, glancing over at the weapon strapped to his back. She waved the sword a couple times, admiring the handiwork. The hilt curved towards the jagged tiers decorating the lower half of the double-edged blade, the skull of a dragon embossing the hand guard and pommel. She needed a sword. A knife wouldn't cut it down here. She nodded to the fallen warrior as she secured it to her side before trotting after Auran, who'd headed for the giant gates, or what was left of them. "Auran." He clambered up the twisted metal and out of sight.

"Auran!" Tyler launched up the sheer wall after him, clawing at the bent edges. She dropped into the room, stumbling as she suddenly landed in something hard, a sickening crunch rattling the surface beneath her. Bodies. She staggered back, sword out. Hundreds of them. A hill of skeletons and armor sloped from the metal barricade to the center of the room. Auran stood in the middle of it all, mask off, his gaze as lifeless as the fallen dead surrounding him. Tyler scrambled back onto the flat platform, goose bumps prickling her skin. Flashes of the war burned through her mind. _Remember all the men you killed? The little boy you shot?_Tchath'ka's voice hissed. Tyler pushed it all aside, focusing on Auran. Why was he showing her this? What did the Tunnels have to do with the treaty?

"Auran?..."

"This is N'tharralis, the City of Shadows," he whispered. His voice echoed in the dim chamber and to Tyler it sounded as if the dead spoke with him. His shoulders sagged beneath an invisible weight she hadn't noticed before.

"It was one of the greatest cities in the world, dark twin to the sun kissed Kuuroch, named after the brother warriors who divided the city not longer after colonization. N'tharralis delved underground to hide his secrets, while Kuuroch turned to the stars in search of glory. Over time, the inhabitants of the upper world grew to distrust their hidden protectors. The pact the brothers made was forgotten, and the Shadow Stalkers withdrew deeper and deeper into themselves, coming up only to either crusade or assassinate. When the Thousand Blades rose to power, they divided the upper city between male and female, consolidated the priesthoods to the upper temples and passed stricter blood laws. The Shadow Stalkers refused to acknowledge such laws and did not divide N'tharralis. For almost three centuries the two cities waged a silent war. Then, thirty years ago, the day I was born, the Thousand Blades pierced the heart of the Shadowed City with a fatal blow. Despite superior weaponry and knowledge of their subterranean realm, the young Shan known as Shaidra and his alliance navigated the depths with ease. The Shadow Stalker Shan and his warriors made their final stand here, fending off wave after wave of attacks for three days. But despite their victory, the invaders could not completely destroy the city. The Shadow Stalkers constructed their city in such a way that, should it ever be destroyed, it would take Kuuroch and an invading army into the depths along with it. So, the city and its people remain here, a rotting corpse from which the leeches and worms feed."

Auran trailed off, staring into the distance. Tyler waded down the hill of tangled armor and bones, carefully stepping over and around the dead. She stepped beside him, softly touching his shoulder. He started, blinking in confusion. Tyler spoke softly. "You said the day you were born. How did you escape?"

"Iyeiden. He saved me, the God only knows why. It would've been a mercy to let me die."

"But why are we in the Midnight Blossom? Why go back?"

"I bear the burden of redeeming my clan."

"But the war is over."

Auran shook his head. "I am the ghost of a dead people that never existed. The dead are supposed to stay dead, not remain behind and haunt the living."

Tyler rapped a knuckle on his chest armor. "You seem pretty real to me. But what do I have to do with redeeming your clan's honor?"

Auran looked down at her then, a small spark of life re-entering his eyes. "Shaidra gave me you in exchange for my services. When I know you and our child are safe, I will return to the surface and do what must be done. But I will not let him near you. He would use you against me or worse, kill you when I've finished whatever it is he needs me to do." Tyler nearly choked at the mention of children. She knew it was what was expected, but hearing out loud was different.

"Ahandra?" Tyler looked up and Auran slipped his hands around her forearms. A strange lightness flittered through her chest. "Have I answered all your questions?"

She chittered and unlatched her mask, the hissing _POP_echoing in the darkness. "Just one more. Why hide in the Midnight Blossom? Of all the places…" Tyler shook her head in exasperation.

"I knew the Mistress once, long ago, during the Tunnel Wars. She is the strongest underground shan in Kuuroch and despises Shaidra more than any other yautja in the galaxy, according to Rrourk. She is dangerous, but trustworthy, so long as you do not betray that trust."

Tyler nodded and, after a brief hesitation, then reached up and pressed her palm against his cheek, her other hand resting on his chest armor. Auran flinched slightly, but accepted the gesture, an uncertain look crossing his face. "Thank you. I usually don't nag, but when you're dragged halfway across the galaxy, forced to marry an alien prince and nearly die a couple times, you tend to want answers."

"I am not a prince." He smiled then, that rare smirk spreading across his face. Auran wrapped his hands around her waist and back, pulling her against his chest. A deep rumble sent goose bumps shivering across her skin, heat flaring inside her stomach and over her thighs. His hand entangled itself in her dreadlocks, warm amber eyes never leaving hers. Tyler's heart pounded as he leaned forward. She closed her eyes. His mandibles brushed against hers—

_KEEEEEEEEEEEER!_

Auran jerked and stepped back, drawing his sword as he scanned the room. Tyler tottered backwards, blinking in shock.

_KEEEEEEEEEERRR!_

"Auran...?"

"Chjit! Shriekers. We need to leave. Now!" Auran pulled Tyler forward, dashing up the mound of skeletons and over the broken barricade. Tyler slid down after, racing through the tunnels as the banshee wail echoed hungrily after them. "What is it? What's a shrieker?" she yelled.

"A giant worm that stalks the deepest parts of the Tunnels. They're blind and deaf. They use their screams to terrify and locate their prey. They must've felt us talking." Thunder rumbled below them as the creature smashed through slabs of stone, slithering through the winding passages with ease. Other shrieks joined its cries. Auran peered over the edge, before quickly climbing higher. "It's attracting others. If we can make it to the cavern, we might have a chance."

Tyler's muscles burned and ached, her rib wounds flaring in pain. Auran was faster than her and the distance quickly grew between them. The shrieks were deafening now. Her ears began ring and Auran's words were lost. She stumbled, gravel biting into her knees. The ground shook beneath her and Tyler clambered up a fallen pillar, a shrieker bursting through the ground in an explosion of dirt and rock. The creature writhed for a second before crashing to the ground, its segmented body roiling and stretching like a demonic accordion. Several others shoved and fought to be the next through, their piercing screeches immobilizing Tyler. Plasma blasts pounded the horde, the superheated energy sheering straight through the shriekers' soft flesh. "Ahandra! Run!" Auran continued firing into the worms as Tyler scrambled up the wall. The act stunned the creatures, but only for a second. Now they knew exactly where their prey was. With lightning speed, they slithered up and over each other. Auran dragged Tyler over the edge and into the cavern, pink tentacle tongues grasping at the air behind them.

They raced through a maze of sharp rocks and metal shards, weaving and ducking traps. Spear traps hissed through the air, the wrenching wails of pain swallowed by a concussive blast. Tyler caught a glimpse of a dead worm writhing, its burning halves still wriggling in pain. The other three, one oozing a bright trail of blood from its shredded tail, were closing in on them. Mines ripped through the ground, throwing Tyler into the air and sending steaming shrieker chunks raining down. She scrambled forward, pulling Auran to his feet and towards the narrow slit.

Tyler skidded to a stop, Auran crashing into her. Cracks split and slithered across the stone wall in front of them. Tyler back peddled. She could barely hear the whine of Auran's plasma caster over the piercing shrieks. Earth and rock exploded as shrieker pounded its way into the cavern, blocking their only way out.

Auran pulled her beneath a ledge as another explosion ripped into the creatures. Tyler clung to him, her breath stuck in her throat, neither daring to move as the giant worms began to cannibalize the dead and dying, their shrieks morphing into sickening gurgles of pleasure.

Once sated, the shriekers slithered their separate ways. Tyler and Auran remained hunched beneath the rocks, barely daring to breath.

* * *

**,-' ', |'-**

* * *

They waited until the mutant rats crept from their holes and began fighting over the scraps too small for the massive worms. Tyler crept out after Auran, her legs shaking as cramped muscles stretched free. When the numbness vanished, Tyler stalked over to Auran and punched him in the chest, biting back a curse of pain. His impassive mask cocked to the side, a rumble of displeasure rising through him.

"Don't you dare growl at me! Why would you take us to a place that's filled with giant worms that can smash through walls? We nearly died!"

"They're not supposed to be that big," he growled, gazing over at the cooling blood spatters. The rats were even licking the blood off the rocks.

Tyler shook her head. "What?"

"They're too big. I've never heard of shriekers that large or powerful. Seven, eight, maybe nine feet long, but not like those," Auran answered. Tyler sighed, instantly regretting her outburst. He was telling the truth. He would never in a million years have brought her down here if he knew such things existed. He'd made that clear back in the heart of N'tharralis: _When I know you and our child are safe, I will return to the surface and do what must be done._ Knots began twisting in her stomach again. _Focus Tyler. First get out of the Tunnels. Then worry about the rest._

"We need to head back to the Midnight Blossom," Auran said, eyeing the restless shadows above them. "The Mistress must know about this."


	17. Brawl

**Author's Note:** As always, read and revi— Oh! Nearly forgot. Since GrayHuntress was the first to guess correctly, she gets the prize. I can't really tell anyone what it is because that would spoil quite a few things. So, GrayHuntress, message me if you wish to know what it is you've won. As for everyone else, enjoy!

**Pronunciation** **Guide:**

**aseinan –**ah-SAY-nahn – servant/neophyte

**yak'sallah –**YAHK-sah-LAH – shut up/be silent

* * *

**Brawl**

* * *

The thundering bass and digitized keening was giving her a headache. And the male, a sweaty slaver, was getting on her last nerve. She clenched her fists tight by her sides and repeated herself, the booming music drowning out her hiss. "Let her go!"

The slaver looked up at her, amused. Froth oozed from his mouth and over the golden spikes protruding from his bony jaw, dripping onto the cheek of the aseinan pressed against his sallow, green chest. Five-inch nails stroked the young female's stomach. "I don't think so. How much for this fresh," he bent down and scraped his sharpened mandibles against the aseinan's neck, inhaling deeply, "little flower?" The young female's eyes went wide with fear.

"She's not for sale." The words tasted like bile in her mouth. The aseinan's first bleeding had only been a few months ago. Technically, for the right price, anyone could take her. Fury washed over her in hot waves. Not this time. Tyler grabbed his wrist and jerked it off the girl. "Hey! I said she's not for sale!"

The slaver spat in her face. Laughter erupted around the table as his cronies belched their approval. The dispute was gaining an audience. She glanced around for support. Pointless really. None of the other guards would back her up. Rrourk had made sure of that. Tyler slowly wiped the oozing snot from her face. So that's how it was going to be then.

The slaver gagged in surprise, her sword thrust against his sagging gullet. "Wh-what's the meaning of this?" he hissed. The sword gently bit into his neck folds, blood drops sparkling as they snaked down his chest. The laughter had stopped.

"What? What do you want? I'll pay double what she's worth— ahhggh!" Tyler slid the tip into his neck.

"Yak'sallah!" she snarled, her grip tightening on the sword, twisting it slightly sideways. The slaver gurgled in pain and released his grip on the young female, who quickly pulled free and scurried out of sight. Tyler drew her blade back, flicking the slaver's blood dripping from its edges onto the floor in disgust. The slaver shouted curses as he clutched his wound. Most of their audience had become bored and gone back to watching the dancers.

"Now get out! I don't want to see you back here until you've learned some manners."

"You stupid u'laude kalai!" the slaver's pale, yellow eyes snapped up, one eye twitching. Blood oozed from beneath his palm. The bittersweet odor of aggression filled the air. "What are you sitting around for?" He screeched at his tablemates. "Kill her!"

The drunk closest to her staggered up, knocking his chair over as he fumbled for his knife that he forgot he didn't have. She fired an electric dart into his chest. Growls and calls for blood rang out. Tyler looked over in time to see Rrourk call his squad off from assisting and flash her a dark smile. Bastard.

A chair slammed into her, knocking her backwards. _Pay attention, idiot!_ She shoved it off, and quickly stood, ignoring the howls of laughter and catcalls. They probably thought this was some sort of kinky entertainment. She sliced through the next chair, both halves flying into the crowd gathering around. Her opponent bent to pick up another. Tyler charged, jumping onto the table and slamming the blade's broadside into his temple. The male crashed to the floor, moaning in pain as he struggled to rise. The thunder of drunken cheers and deafening music crashed down around her. Tyler turned to last male standing. He thought about it for a minute, glanced at her sword and dart gun, then grinned and walked away. The slaver snarled a stream of unintelligible curses at his back.

"— miserable wretch! I pay you! I own you! You're just a Djethian piece of sh— ahhh!" Tyler knelt on the table and grabbed the slaver by the throat.

"I told you to shut your mouth."

The slaver started to hiss something. Tyler shoved him back and shot an electric dart into his face. The crowd roared with laughter. She shot glares at the males stupid enough to approach and try to buy time with her as the drunken throng dispersed. Pheromones saturated the air. Tyler watched as a horde of hot-blooded males swarmed the purchase stall. She growled in disgust. For every little aseinan she saved on the floor, a dozen or more were sent to work in the Honeycomb each night. Tyler let the guards drag the drooling slaver and his bodyguards out. This had been the third time Rrourk had stood by and done nothing when a fight had broken out around her on the floor.

She found him chewing out a guard who'd nearly missed several needle daggers cinched inside a customer's dreadlocks.

"— gonna shove ev'ry single one of these up yer ass! When I say check thoroughly, I mean thoroughly! Half-ass it again and I'll break ya bloody jaw!"

"Captain."

Rrourk barely spared her a glance before turning and punching his fist into the guard's shoulder. The young male roared in pain, dropping to a knee and clutching his upper arm. Three gleaming needles steaming with fresh blood jutted between Rrourk's clenched fingers, disappearing with the flick of his wrist.

"Ya got the scars to remember this lesson, so there's no excuse next time. Now get outta my sight, before I sell you to an upper who needs a sheath for his sword."

The guard bowed slightly and strode away, head bent and eyes locked to the floor to show the appropriate amount of shame. Rrourk grunted in satisfaction and headed back to the overlook, shoving past Tyler without a second glance. She grabbed his wrist, left over adrenaline still coursing through her system. It took almost everything she had not give into the bloodlust boiling beneath the surface, an alien rage that awoke every time she drew her blade.

"Captain!" she hissed. Rrourk jerked his wrist from her grasp, growling.

"I get that you don't like a female among the guard staff. So be it. But there's no excuse when one of the females is in danger."

"Ya damn right I don't like it! It isn't natural fer a female to carry a sword. Worse, yer infectin' the rest of 'em."

"They need to learn self-defense. They're around addicts and sociopaths every night!"

"Learnin' fancy hand moves won't do chjit against a warrior twice their weight. Ya givin' 'em false hope, like that aseinan," he growled, then hissed as he leaned down closer. "Ya didn't do her any favors by delaying the inevitable."

Tyler's eyes flashed with anger. "I almost believe you. Almost. But none of that bullshit you just spewed explains why you don't send a guard or two to back me up!" Rrourk snarled and grabbed Tyler by the throat. "I've let ya disrespect me in front of my unit one too many times!"

He grabbed her dart gun from her fingers and tossed it aside. Tyler's toes brushed the floor as she struggled to breathe. Rrourk smirked and reached to unlace her sword belt. "Not so tough without your gun now, are ya?"

"Captain Rrourk." An imperious voice cut through the moment. A dancer approached the pair, pale hips sashaying in the firelight. Feathers and glow lights streamed from her hair and mask, glowing tattoos her only clothing. Rrourk looked her up and down, then again, slower, for good measure, before facing Tyler. "Go back to your stage, dancer. This is none of your concern."

"Yan."

Tyler's eyes widened in surprise as the dancer took off her mask. What was she thinking?

"What?" Rrourk turned back, ready to growl another order. His words died in his throat, his grip instantly tightening around Tyler's windpipe. She grabbed at his hands, hoping Ajenke got the message and did something quick. Ajenke surveyed the scene with the perfect mixture of boredom, disdain and condescending acknowledgement. "I'm sorry captain, but I need her alive… for now."

Rrourk rumbled with indecision for a second, before releasing his hold on Tyler's throat. "As you wish," he clicked. He left without another word. Tyler coughed and rubbed her throat before shakily climbing to her feet. She wished she could shoot a dart into his back and send him tumbling down the stairs. The hypocrite. After all his lecturing about males keeping their hands off females. With Auran around she'd never worried about anyone touching her. She'd let her guard down. Stupid.

"Ahandra, do you enjoy causing trouble? Hesra is having a fit."

"I live to cause her pain," Tyler drawled as she picked up her gun.

"Your sarcastic dismissal of her authority is disturbing. She is the Matron of Order and second only to the Mistress."

"He spat in my face. What does she want me to do, give him a lap dance and then get under the table?"

"Among other things. Most of which involve the Black Room and chains."

Tyler sighed and rubbed her face, wishing Hesra would throw herself into a dark pit somewhere and never crawl out. If Rrourk didn't get her killed, that old harpy would. "Are you ready, then?"

"I have no choice," Ajenke clicked bitterly as she slipped her mask back on.

Neither spoke the rest of the way. One question kept nagging at Tyler though. She hung up her sword and met Ajenke in the center of the ring.

"I don't understand something. You showed him your face. You do what I say during training and I turn a blind eye while you dance on the stage. That was our deal. If word gets around to the Mistress that you're out on the floor, she'll kill both of us, you know that."

Ajenke scoffed as cinched her leather chest plate. "Rrourk is a true guardian. He prefers order and stability, and is loyal to a fault. These last several weeks, indeed months, have thrown everything into chaos. He blames himself for allowing outsiders to breach the Mistress' trade networks and the Midnight Blossom itself, even though he wasn't even a captain. He and Sef had to kill friends to put to right Jaul's betrayal. And then the one who calls himself Zeyin suddenly appeared with a firendi in tow who possessed a gift for finding trouble. Yan, he won't tell the Mistress. Compared to everything else he has to worry about, a young Matron indulging in some forbidden excitement is the least of his concerns."

Tyler raised a brow in surprise. "Wow. You actually do think before you act after all."

"Yak'sallah," Ajenke hissed. "Must you always bring up my humiliation?"

"Only when you call me firendi," said Tyler as she slid into a defensive stance. "Now, do you remember what we went over yesterday, or do you need a couple more bruises to remember?"

Ajenke scoffed in derision and readied herself.

"Repeat the first lesson."

Ajenke rolled her eyes. "Deep breaths. Concentrate."

"What is the second?" Tyler asked, circling Ajenke's still form.

"Mind my surroundings. Keep my footing."

"Lesson three?" Tyler lunged from the side.

Ajenke ducked and backpedaled. She batted away a punch, knee jab, swing, jab, combo. A punch bit into her jaw. She stumbled back, dazed.

"Come on, what's lesson three?" Tyler shouted. "Get up! What is it?"

Ajenke mumbled something.

"What? Louder!"

She flew at Tyler, landing several punches and driving her across the sparring mat. The pair wrestled to the ground, struggling for dominance. Tyler slipped an arm around Ajenke's neck and rolled over, crushing her windpipe. Ajenke clawed at her arms, kicking and thrashing, desperate to escape. "Do you give in?"

"Yan… i-iyan."

Tyler released her just before she blacked out. Ajenke gasped for air and rolled onto her knees.

"What is lesson three, Ajenke?" asked Tyler as she stood. Ajenke rose and faced her, flushed, but proud.

"To never give up. Fight with everything and anything you've got to win."

Tyler nodded, grinning. "Good. Good warm-up. Ready for the real work out?"

Ajenke heaved a dramatic groan, dragging her feet to the center of the ring.

"Drop and give me forty."

"I hate you," she clicked as she lowered herself to the floor.

"You're welcome," Tyler said, smiling.


	18. Alone

**Author's Note:**It's been just over a year since I entered this story. Can't believe it, really. Thanks to everyone for following and reviewing.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Chrovauk**– KROH-vawk – large, reptilian pack animals

**Daka** – DAH-kah – idiot/fool

**Hath**– HAHTH – day/days

* * *

**Alone**

* * *

From the shadowed balcony above, Rrourk watched with arms folded, a deep scowl carved into his scarred face. He leaned against a pillar, eyes following Ajenke's supple movements as she traded blows with Ahandra. A rumble rose in his chest as Ahandra buried a fist into Ajenke's gut and threw her to the ground. When Ajenke finally rose, he breathed once again, claws shaking as they slipped out from his skin, bright pricks of blood welling up. Damn. They'd smell that if he didn't leave. But he didn't. When Ahandra wrapped up the training session, Rrourk stirred and glanced at his wrist-comp. He was late. He slipped out without a sound, ignoring the bows and grunts of acknowledgement of the warriors he passed. By now it was clear that the kalai wouldn't try anything stupid. He shouldn't go back. It was a waste of time.

Rrourk grimaced. How many times had he said that?

Sef and Zeyin were gearing up when he arrived.

"You're late," grunted Zeyin. "Next time, we leave you."

"I doubt it. Sef's practically useless in combat. Ya might as well go it alone." Rrourk ignored his silent comrade's long stare.

"Did you read the orders?"

"Yan. Don't need to." He hefted his great axe onto his shoulder and turned. "Just point where to go and I'll kill everyone in sight."

Zeyin and Sef exchanged a glance, before donning their cloaks and heading out. Rrourk frowned, looking down at the cloak laid out for him. A stealth mission. He hated stealth missions. Why couldn't the Mistress come up with more interesting assignments? Rrourk rumbled and tossed the dark cloth aside as he followed after. Skulking wasn't his style.

* * *

**'/- \- ';'**

* * *

Rrourk's rumblings and curses finally subsided as the trio entered the sub-system. Sparking neon wires flickered beneath the grated walkway, the dank stench of mold melding with the sour scent of burnt grub worms, their fat, puss-filled bodies piled beneath the wires and lume lights. Auran kicked a particularly large one slurping across the ground, a satisfying squeal and popping sound echoing from below as he scraped its drooling yellow mucus off his sandal.

"Eh? Who goes there?" An old, cracked voiced hissed from overhead speakers. Sef stepped towards one of the machine sentries, flashing the Mistress' personal crest before concealing it back inside his cloak.

The voice croaked in amusement. "Oh, Sef, it's you. What's 'a matter? Mistress got your tongue?" The sub-system master cackled for several seconds as he dismantled the death traps and energy gates. He was known simply as the Operator and he was in charge of the entire sub-system network. His acolytes operated the main hubs and learned the secrets of the Tunnels' transport system, a damaged and decaying web of transport routes that stretched for endless miles underground. The quickest way to smuggle goods in and out of Kuuroch was the transport system. The Operator was willing to work with anyone. For a price of course.

Bundles of black and silver wire slithered across the ground and up the walls, draping from the ceiling like vines. Dirt and grime scraped beneath their boots as they descended the creaking metal staircase into the station. The Operator greeted them, sliding down one of the transporters and making an elaborate bow, dozens of bone, metal and wooden keys jangling around his neck. He was completely bald. Without dreadlocks, the sharp horns of his crest bristled above his head like a crown of thorns. All sub-system operators wore their hair in tight braids or cut it, since loose dreads tended to tangle in the machinery and drag careless operators to their deaths. The Operator bowed again, his mandibles stretching into a grin as he scanned the trio. "Welcome. Welcome. Tell me Sef, what brings you to my humble station, hm? Must be a special mission for the Mistress to send you through here instead of the main system."

Auran stepped forward. "We didn't come here to gossip. Name your price and let us be on our way."

The Operator cocked his head, rubbing his hands and smiling. "Straight to the point I see. Nice to know not all of the Mistress' dogs are mute. But I do miss your style, Sef."

"The price," Rrourk growled. "We don't have all hath."

"Patience, my axe-wielding friend. There are two suns in the sky. Plenty of time to lop off whoever's head it is you're after."

"There's a fresh shipment of ganja that just arrived last night," Auran continued, doing his best to hide his annoyance. He hated haggling.

"Oh yan, yan, warrior, yan, that is not what I desire," said the Operator, waving away the sample Auran proffered him. "No, I desire something warm, something… soft and clean. Mind you, I love my system. I love its complexity, its subterranean charm, the precise coding. But it lacks a certain feminine appeal, saa? And I think I've earned this favor considering all the runs I've been doing lately for your little Mistress. Thirty hath of my choosing should suffice."

"Three."

"Eighteen. Two weeks is more than fair."

"Three."

"Twelve."

"Six."

"Done!" the Operator offered his palm and Auran slapped his fist into it, signifying that the deal was sealed.

"Finally! I was 'bout to fall asleep on my feet. Ya both haggle like old females," Rrourk growled.

"Enthusiastic to ride I see," clicked the Operator as he bounded up to the control panel. Auran watched as the Operator selected different keys and plugged them into the system, barely visible retractable threads connecting each to the three main loops. A sleek, six-seated transport suddenly appeared from below, the energy tracks sparking and hissing as the craft's computer connected to the grid. He slipped into the front with Sef, leaving Rrourk to brood in the back. He was muttering something about being transporter sick. As the panel slid overhead, the Operator called out, his voice rising as energy began to build up. "Oh, by the way! The normal route's been destroyed! Rumor has it giant worms roam the tunnels and like to try and catch transporters!" He grinned. "I've chosen a special route for you lot. Enjoy!"

Auran heard a note of panic enter Rrourk's voice. "Wait, what did he sa—"

The craft shot forward, snapping their necks and slamming them against the seats. Auran fought to breath as pressure coiled tighter and tighter around his lungs. He could see nothing, smell nothing, and with Rrourk cursing everything in existence, he couldn't hear anything either. If the worms found them, there was nothing they could do.

* * *

**-|'- /, |/-**

* * *

Auran staggered out of the transport, bracing himself against the wall till his legs settled. Special route indeed. The Operator would be lucky if he got even one night free at the Midnight Blossom. Sef calmly stood and stepped out. He looked at Auran, who gave a small nod and pushed away from the wall. A groan stopped them both as they made for the exit. One hand, then the other, followed by a leg, appeared from the back seats. Rrourk moaned again as he slowly dragged himself out before collapsing onto his hands and knees and vomiting all over the floor.

"That operator… when I get my claws on 'em, I swear, I'll-I'll…," the words were lost as he heaved up the rest of his meal. He staggered to his feet, gripping the side of the transport. The sub-system engineer had clamped his mandibles shut to keep from laughing. A smart decision, considering Rrourk was carrying a fanged axe that was wider than the engineer's torso.

"And he called you useless?" clicked Auran to Sef. He should tell Ahandra about this. She seemed to enjoy causing Rrourk misery. It might even make her laugh. He wondered what it would sound like, as he watched the hulking warrior fumble for his axe. Rrourk cursed him, stringing together an impressive series of profanities he'd never been called before. "Laugh it up, you two," growled Rrourk as he loomed over them. "But when yer surrounded by a hundred slavering xashi, you'll be grateful I'm there to save both yer miserable hides."

"I thought xashi was a drug?" Auran clicked as they made their way out.

"The users pretty much _become_ the drug, 'specially since the new brand hit the streets. Xashi, soulless, walking dead, drones... take yer pick. An almost never ending high, so long as you don't miss an injection. One crash and yer dead."

"Soulless?"

"Aye. For that much pleasure ya'd hafta give up a part of yer soul."

Sef flung a tattered cloth aside, harsh lume light flooding the stairway. Auran took a steadying breath, separating dozens of unique and familiar smells. Sweat, urine, bile, at least a dozen different kinds of drugs, two wounded, two chrovauk; and the bitter scent of aggression that lay like an invisible fog, tainting the air, and concealing subtle scents such as poison.

The narrow streets were unnaturally crowded. Waste and blood caked the pitted stone. Growls rippled through the air like distant thunder whenever a male believed the other had brushed too close or too carelessly. Beaded beards strung from the half-masks of slavers hissed as they swung, sand drifting off their dust colored robes and chrovauk mounts. Bounty hunters bristling with barbed armor and nets mingled with hunched Tunnel Runners, while orphan rats stole meat from careless vendors' stalls, too busy haggling and fighting with passersbys to notice. Pleasure slaves beckoned customers into their dens and body collectors trundled their barrows of dead to the money makers to carve their bones into coin.

Auran shoved his way through the crowded weapons market, stepping over the bodies of the dead, their sightless eyes still searching for the knife from behind. With the last of the crusade ships leaving, every small clan and clanless male was fighting for a spot and a decent sword. Some would die before even setting foot on board. He kept his head low and pressed forward, keeping Sef in view. Not so long ago, he had been just as desperate to prove himself. Till he'd learned it had all meant nothing.

Sef suddenly disappeared down a dark, steaming alley. Auran quickly followed, barely catching a glimpse of his comrade's cloak as he was swallowed by a twisted doorway. He paused to read the jagged symbols carved above the entrance, their crude shapes distorted and faded: _BRoKEn TUsK._ Sickly lime light oozed from inside its twisted entrance, the stench of despair leaking from its sagging, wet stone walls. The hollow, green aura permeated the air, the deadened noise beating against the sound barriers below only adding to its suffocating atmosphere. He stepped onto the bridge connecting the steep stairway to the center bar area, the rotting structure outside suddenly making sense, as he walked across. The entire building had been carved out of a petrified tree, it's thick, twisting roots dividing the fighting pits below. Auran watched as a warrior cleaved his opponent in two, the crowd roaring as guts and blood spilled onto the floor. He found Sef in a corner, his drink untouched. Auran pulled off his hood and sat beside him.

"We seem to have lost Rrourk."

Sef didn't reply, but Auran hadn't expected him to. He was actually somewhat relieved. Rrourk would likely draw unwanted attention. He was probably in some pleasure house, which suited Auran just fine.

"How long do we wait?"

_Half hour._

"I don't like it. It's too long."

_Agreement._

Auran huffed and folded his arms. Sef stared at him, his featureless mask betraying nothing.

_You. Worried._

"Iyan, this is a simple mission. If anyone should be worried it's the informant."

_Female long distance. You always finish mission quick._

Auran growled softly. Sef's hands remained still, but he kept staring. It was unnatural. And suddenly reminded him of how Ahandra would often look at him. Wide, searching eyes that seem to bore into his very soul. It nagged at him. What were they looking for?

A wary figure hovering near the entrance suddenly caught Auran's eye. From beneath dirty robes, a hand shakily reached back for the entryway, before clutching what was probably knife concealed inside his torn shirt. He seemed afraid to cross the bridge, the openness unnerving. Auran wondered why there had been an agreement to meet here. He could think of a dozen places, at least, that offered better concealment than this one. No one could come or go without crossing the bridge, and Sef had chosen the perfect vantage point – a shadowed corner hidden behind several booths and hanging ornaments – but Auran didn't like it. There was no cover out there, if things got ugly.

The informant shuffled quickly through the maze of booths, jerking like a frightened bird at sudden noises or movements. Auran growled. He'd give them away. On Auran's signal, Sef grabbed the informant as he walked past, quickly shoving him into the back of the rounded booth, a thumb pressed against his throat to keep him from screaming. Dirty nails frantically clawed at his shirt for the knife, a gurgle of horror crossing his face as Sef held it up before slipping it into his own robes.

Auran leaned back and folded his arms, unimpressed. "How sharp are the maiden's tears?"

Sef released the struggling male's throat enough for him to gasp, "Sharp enough to pierce flesh!"

"Quiet. There are no sound barriers up here."

The male rubbed his throat, rasping softly as he shifted away from Sef. He looked nervously between the two warriors, swallowing and gripping the table to keep his hands from shaking. "I-I thought you were someone else."

"Who?"

"T-the shadows."

"What you imagine during your highs is not of interest to us. We pay for information. You summoned us. Talk, or scurry back to whatever hole it is you crawled from."

The male swallowed again, glancing furtively around at every shadowed corner of the glowing green bar. Sef pushed his untouched drink in front of him. The informant clutched it between both hands, staring into its foamy contents. "Things have… changed. Or they're starting to change. It's hard to tell."

"What's changed?"

"The xashi. It's more potent, no, that's wrong. It's… it's not just a drug. That's it! It's _not_a drug."

Rrourk's words flashed through Auran's mind. _The users pretty much become the drug, 'specially since the new brand hit the streets. Xashi, soulless, walking dead, drones. Take yer pick._ Auran let out a soft growl. "Start making sense or we leave. You said you had information about a threat to the Midnight Blossom."

"It is!" the male snapped. A humming plasma gun to the throat cut off whatever else he was about to shout. "Next time, your skull decorates the wall," Auran rumbled as Sef put away the weapon. The male took several deep, shuddering breaths. "S-sorry, it's just, I'm trying to get you to understand and I don't know how to explain what I saw."

"What did you see?"

"The labs. Where they make the xashi. I'd never seen them before. The drug's just a cover, it just funds the operation."

"What operation?"

"I don't know." A look of fear fell across his face. "But it was horrible. T-the screams. By the God and Goddess, the screams..."

"Whose screams?" Auran leaned forward. "Start giving details. You've given us nothing to go on. How is this a threat to the Mistress?"

"I overheard him. One of the higher ups, talking about some plan to take over the Tunnels, I think. Nadurak. I know some sick people and I've done terrible things, but this one, he's twisted. He enjoyed torturing the rats."

"Rats?"

"Saa."

"Drug debtors?

"Yan. Children."

Auran's eyes widened slightly. "You're sure?"

The informant nodded. Auran sat back and looked at Sef. None of it made sense. How was torturing children and a synthetic drug suppose to bring down the Mistress? He looked back at the male. "Anything else?"

He nodded vigorously, shaking hands scrabbling for his belt loop. He held up a data core. "It's everything. Everything I could find, everything I know. Maps, names, codes, pictographs." Auran nodded and reached for it. The male pulled it away. "You have to take me with you."

"That wasn't the deal."

"Deal's changed. They're suspicious. They've been watching me. You need this more than you know. I need to get out of there!"

"That's enough," Auran hissed. "Hand over the data or—"

The data core and the male's head exploded in a shower of blood and sparks. Auran bolted from the booth, shuriken zipping past, shearing several dreadlocks and shattering the petrified wood behind. He rolled into cover and tore off his cloak, plasma cannon humming to life on his shoulder. Most patrons were either too drunk or caught off guard to be nuisance yet. Plasma blasts shrieked through the air. _Sef._Auran peered around the corner. He was firing his plasma rifle at a dark figure dashing across the bridge. Auran raced past Sef, sword drawn. The dark figure disappeared into the gloom above. Auran sped after him through the alley and into the main streets, his mask picking up his enemy's heat signature in the distance. Warriors shouted and hissed as he shoved them aside. A plasma bolt from Sef shrieked from behind. The target leapt out of the way, stone shattering instead. Vendors shuttered stalls in seconds. Roars filled the narrow street. A wooden staff suddenly swung into view and cracked against Auran's forehead. Sparks danced across his vision. Something hot and wet dripped down his forehead. A hand clawed at his dark blade while others searched his satchels.

The world spun and he tightened his grip on the hilt. _No one's taking_my _sword._

He twisted the blade. Warm flesh hit the ground with a sickening thud. The thief's howl turned into a wet gurgle as Auran plunged his sword down his throat. With a heave, he ripped the sword sideways, blood spraying onto the dead thief's comrades. One raised his rusted knife in the air. "You basta—!" A plasma shot ripped his torso in half. His companion hesitated, glancing between Auran's coin loop on the ground and a quick escape into the crowd. Shrieking plasma punched a hole through his chest. His body jerked and spasmed as it collapsed over his comrade, cooked organs sending steam into the air.

Sef was suddenly by his side, pulling him up. Auran growled. "You missed him. I thought you never missed?"

The silent warrior flicked him a curse.

Auran growled as he stood. "The assassin must've known about the meeting. He waited till the data core was in view to take the shot. Chjit! How are we supposed to catch him now? This place is a maze."

A roar and clash of blades sounded through one of the narrow corridors. _Left,_signaled Sef. They rushed towards the sound. Light exploded as they rounded the corner, the shockwave punching Auran in the chest.

Pain lanced through his head. Auran awoke on his back, his mandibles scrabbling in vain for air. Warning symbols flashed across his mask as his respirator system warned of imminent failure. He clawed at his mask, ripping tubes and wiring as he flung it aside. Air and dust came rushing into his burning lungs, and Auran struggled to catch his breath as he stood. Stone and wiring littered the intersection, an entire wall and ceiling section blown away in the blast. He staggered. Sef was combing through the pile of rubble, heaving aside chunks of stone and twisted metal bars. Auran spat blood, ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest as he approached. "Sef, what is it?" Sef didn't answer, methodically digging down into the labyrinthine pile. He shoved a slab a metal out of the way and Auran suddenly understood; Sef had seen with his mask what he could not.

What was left of Rrourk lay trapped beneath a hill of rubble and stone. Blood coated his burnt body like a second skin. The left side of his face had been crushed, with his arm smashed between two giant stone slabs.

"Both of ya… useless," Rrourk coughed, blood dribbling down his chin. "Knew I'd hafta… save both yer hides."

Sef pulled out three laser trap prongs and positioned them in a triangle around Rrourk's trapped arm. _Arm lost. I take._ Normally, it was used to trap and eviscerate prey in small spaces. The alternative would mean hacking his shoulder with a sword. "Ya talk too much, Sef," Rrourk wheezed, his eyelids fluttering as shock and blood loss began to take its toll.

"I leave him to you Sef," Auran said. Sef nodded, priming the laser trap.

Auran leapt up through the gaping hole. There was nothing he could do for Rrourk, and already, precious time had been lost. Their enemy had at least a few minutes head start. A flash of red caught his eye. He crouched over it and traced the glowing goo with his fingertips. Blood. And it was fresh. So the blast had wounded the enemy as well. A desperate strategy. Rrourk must have caught him off guard. He clenched his fist. No time to lose. Auran raced through the darkness, the bloody trail winding through the collapsed labyrinth, each bright splash of red larger than the last. He was wounded and he was pushing himself too hard.

_Kschik!_

Auran kicked off wall and flipped sideways. Twin silver wrist blades flashed past him. _A trap!_ Auran landed and darted to the side. An explosion ripped through the air behind him. He cried out as the shockwave threw him off his feet, pain lancing up his back as scales split and peeled where tongues of fire licked his back. Scrambling to his feet, he wove between columns of rock and metal, explosions gouging and clawing at the ground right behind him. Keep moving, that was the only way. He needed to get close and end this quick. His dark blade hissed as it he released it from its sheath. Once he was close enough, no weapon or blade could stop his sword. Explosions shattered the cavern floor. Auran dodged every one, weaving closer and closer. Without time to charge, the potency of the energy shots were weakening. Take too many shots – the shrill chime of the assassin's plasma cannon's warning system sounded – and your weapon might overheat.

Auran raced towards the dark warrior. He was fumbling with his plasma cannon, ripping it off in disgust. _Now!_ Auran roared as he leapt, sword overhead, slashing down with all his strength. Metal shrieked as the warrior's dark blade blocked his attack. Auran froze. _A dark blade?_ His opponent seized the window of opportunity, shoving him back and slashing at his chest, blood spraying the air. His opponent gained momentum, slashing and spinning, his movements flowing like water. It was everything Auran could do to block the rain of strikes. A solid hook sent him tumbling down a steep incline. He barely had time to roll to his feet before the dark warrior struck. The force of the blow numbed his arm and sent him stumbling backwards. Blow after blow rained down, amethyst sparks flashing in the eternal twilight of the Tunnels.

He blocked a downward slash, wincing as the blade bit into his shoulder.

_I underestimated him._

Auran shoved the blade away and countered. Despite his wounds, the warrior never slowed, the strength of his blocks like striking a stone wall. His defensive and attack styles were unlike any Auran had encountered. Rapid counterattacks flickered into an impenetrable defense and back, flawlessly.

_I assumed his reliance on distance weapons meant he was weaker in close combat._

He felt his enemy almost toying with him, waiting to see how much longer he could last. His arms trembled, barely able to respond in time to the dark warrior's lightning thrusts. The air around him began to ripple. Auran ducked a swing, barely able to keep his balance, his legs shaking as muscles spasmed. Then it suddenly became clear; his opponent wasn't getting faster or stronger. It was all a clever illusion. The dark warrior had laced his sword with poison. With every cut scored on his body, the poison was gradually consuming him. Even if he did kill his opponent, he was still going to die.

Dark metal slammed together in a shower of amethyst sparks as Auran held his ground. One opening, just one, was all he needed to send this warrior to the abyss. With the last of his strength, Auran surged forward, roaring in defiance. He twirled his sword up, knocking loose his enemy's grip. As the warrior tried to steady himself, Auran lunged, piercing flesh.

Auran quickly ripped his blade free, growling in disbelief. He'd missed.

Blood poured from the dark warrior's upper arm and he struggled to hold his sword up. _Another chance?_ Time slowed and the world spun. Auran closed his eyes, lifted his blade high and slashed down with last of his strength. His sword bit into warm flesh, jolting to a halt as it bit into metal armor.

_If I'm going to the abyss, you're coming with me._

Auran's relieved sigh died in his throat, morphing into a choked gasp. Lancing pain tore through his chest as metal and poison invaded his body. He opened his eyes in disbelief. The dark warrior had used his wrist blades and caught his sword mid-swing. His hand and wrist had been cleaved in half, his fingers twitching in pain as blood poured to the ground. Auran looked down at the black blade buried in his chest. He sunk to his knees, unable to stand, the blade tearing muscle and organs, as it slid out with a wet sucking sound. Despair and rage engulfed him.

_Schick._

The warrior retracted his wrist blades, examining his hand, as if noticing it for the first time.

Auran growled and struggled to stand. Pain and nausea ripped through gut. He fell onto his hands and knees, spitting up blood.

"_I wouldn't do that if I were you."_The assassin's voice rippled and stretched. The poison burned through his veins, shards of pain stabbing his heart with each strained beat.

A boot tapped his sword. Auran gripped the handle tighter. He could barely feel his hand.

"_Where did you get that?"_

Blood oozed from Auran's mouth as he snarled, "Get your filthy feet away from it. I'll _kill_ you before I let you take my father's sword."

The dark warrior's dispassionate mask stared down at him for a moment, before looking away, rumbling softly. _"How troublesome…"_The warrior sat on his heels just beyond Auran's reach, sword laid across his thighs. He unlatched his mask, the hiss of depressurization echoing softly in the darkness. Cold, vermillion eyes stared into Auran's, assessing him.

Suddenly, Auran was on his back. He wasn't sure if he was holding his blade or not. Every breath was a battle, an invisible weight crushing his lungs. Sleep. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn't, because then he'd never wake up. He'd never wake up and roll over and see Ahandra. Auran wheezed, enraged at how helpless he was.

A blurred shadow with red glowing eyes suddenly fell over him, spirals of icy hatred and rage dragging him into their depths. Death had come. _Iyan! Not yet. Not yet._

Cold fire burst inside his heart. Auran gasped as his lungs opened, life and air flooding into them. Limbs twitched and jerked as nerves jolted awake. A blade tapped his throat. His vision cleared and he was staring up at the dark warrior.

_"Don't move. The anti-dote has not_y_et taken full effect."_ Auran stared up at him, bewildered.

"_I have spared your life for one reason_and one alone; because of our bond as brothers." The numbing nausea slowly drained from his body. He could feel his limbs again. And the pain. He gasped as agonizing waves flooded over his body.

"The wound isn't fatal… yet. Consider it a test of will."

Auran swallowed blood, coughing as the viscous clump slowly slid down his dry throat. Each word tore through his throat like metal shards. "What… bond? I… do not… know you."

"Yan, Auran Drakenatharr. You do not know yourself."

Auran's eyes widened.

"When you're tired of hiding in holes and ready to exact true vengeance on your enemies, go to the Iron Towers. There, you will find your true destiny."

The warrior sheathed his sword and disappeared into the darkness. Auran struggled to sit up, cursing the warrior, yelling for him to come back. The Shadow Stalkers were dead! It was a lie! A lie! "_Liar!_" he roared, hope and anguish raging within him.

* * *

**-' \', -,-**

* * *

Ajenke left the pit, sweating and bruised. As always, she reminded Tyler that she was essentially a slave and promised retribution. Tyler smirked. She was just like her mother. She didn't dare say that out loud, though. Yet.

Her smile quickly dissolved. Tyler stumbled over to the bloody gutters ringing the training area, vomit gushing from her mouth as her stomach twisted and churned. She wretched for several minutes, her body purging every last ounce of food and bile from her system. Her limbs trembled as she stood. Everything ached. She growled, stumbling into the hallway. Screw that prima donna. She was always complaining, while Tyler hadn't been able to keep even a sip of water down in three days. The trembling morphed into violent shaking. Tyler curled up against the wall, her chest aching, the slightest touch unbearable. Her eyes burned. Where was Auran? Why was he always gone?

She hissed and punched the wall. It didn't matter! He was using her. Everyone was using her and she just let them. Tyler struggled to her feet, her breath coming in shallow gasps as pain stabbed her back and thighs, muscles cramping and twisting. She limped down the hallway, hand pressed against the wall for balance. Why couldn't everyone just leave her alone? That was all she wanted. To be alone. Then she wouldn't have to care anymore.

Tyler's knees suddenly gave out. She sat there quietly, hands over her face, rocking back and forth._Breathe Tyler, breathe. It's okay. You've pulled yourself out of this before, you can do it again._

But even if she did, what about next time? Could she control the rage boiling beneath the surface? Was she falling apart? Maybe the transformation had been flawed and she was slowly dying, one DNA strand at a time.

Or maybe she was insane.

_No. Don't think that. You're just sick with… with a virus you don't know about. What do sick people do? They see doctors._

A doctor. Nadhiya. Tyler groaned as she stood, wincing in pain with every step. She concentrated on breathing, hoping the rhythm would distract her enough to keep from snapping at someone. After what felt like an eternity, she stepped through the beaded entryway.

"You!"

Tyler blinked and tottered sideways as she turned to look. "Rrek'ne."

"Why are you here? Get out!"

Rage flushed beneath Tyler's skin. "I need to see Nadhiya."

"She's busy. Leave. She has more important things to do than listen to you whine."

Tyler lunged, grabbing Rrek'ne by the throat and slamming her down. Glass vials shattered and crunched, the wooden counter hissing as it split and cracked. Rrek'ne slashed at Tyler's face, drawing blood. Tyler roared in anger and punched her in the chest. Rrek'ne doubled over and collapsed to the floor. Tyler staggered back, fists trembling. Rage burned through her. She needed to leave while she was still in control.

"What is going on here? Ahandra! Rrek'ne!" Nadhiya stood in the doorway, a furious look on her face. Rrek'ne coughed and moaned, pointing at Tyler as she struggled to her feet. "Th-that _firendi_ attacked me! I did nothing and she tried to _kill_me!"

Tyler tried to leave. Nadhiya stepped in front of her, hand up. "You are not going anywhere. I know you are prone to rashness, but this is unlike you. Explain yourself, Ahandra."

Shame filled Tyler and she bowed her head.

"See! Her silence tells all! Send her to Hesra."

"Yak'sallah," Nadhiya growled. "I heard everything that happened from outside."

Rrek'ne chirped in shock.

"Get this mess cleaned up and tell Sik'ja to start making fresh vials."

Nadhiya clicked for Tyler to follow, leaving Rrek'ne to smolder in indignation. The exam room was small, with a single stone table. Nadhiya ordered Tyler take off everything, attaching round silver disks over her heart, stomach and back of the neck. A hologram image of Tyler's heart surrounded by cryptic letters and numbers projected from the silver disc. She wished when the old female had given her the ability to speak, she could've given her the ability to read as well.

The other two disks flashed on as well. Nadhiya slid the heart monitor down to her lungs. "Breathe." Tyler took several deep breaths, quietly relieved that the haze of anger had lifted for the moment.

"So you snuck out from the healing facility in the middle of the night. Somehow managed to slip into the fortified council chambers, challenge the Mistress, and manage to keep, not only your head, but your tongue as well." Tyler winced as Nadhiya roughly smeared anti-septic lotion over her face.

"As long as I keep Ajenke alive, and do as she says. I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly. But I had to."

"I see," replied Nadhiya, still frowning, brows narrowing as she looked over Tyler's eyes and throat. "So you decide to do the opposite when you come back and trash my healing facility?"

Tyler flushed and looked away.

"Did you take my advice?"

Tyler blinked in confusion. "What advice?"

"About keeping your distance." Tyler opened her mouth, closed it, opened and closed it again, finally shrugging. "I don't know. I don't know what I am to him and I don't know what he is to me. All I know is I'm tired and angry and I can't eat and when I try it just comes right back up and then I get so depressed that I just want to sleep all day—"

"Dja! Dja, Ahandra! Slow down. Slow down. Deep breaths now." Tyler closed her eyes and breathed, Nadhiya's warm palms easing her sore shoulders. Nadhiya slowly scrolled the disk on her neck down her back. "Ahandra… what have you been doing to yourself? Your body is under immense strain and your stress levels are through the roof. You're slightly feverish, dehydrated, malnourished… ohhh."

"Oh? Oh what? Have I finally started my cycle?" Over four months and nothing. No bleeding. No cramps. The issue hounded her. If her reproductive system was impaired, she was useless. The thought angered and terrified her. To have endured so much and have it all mean nothing.

Tyler glanced anxiously at Nadhiya as she sighed and walked back around to unpeel the two disks on her back and chest. "When did your symptoms first appear?"

"A few weeks ago. It just suddenly hit me. Some days I'm just angry. I hate everything and everyone. And then the next minute I'm depressed and I'm vomiting. I can barely drink water, let alone eat. Then other days I feel fine. My chest hurts all the time though," Tyler sighed, rubbing her forehead while Nadhiya slid the disk monitoring her stomach down her abdomen. "What's wrong with me, Nadhiya? Am I crazy?" The healer tapped the screen several times until a hologram ballooned between them. "There's nothing wrong with you, Ahandra. You are simply with child. A healthy male."

For a moment, Tyler forgot how to breathe. "Wha… what… what did you say?"

"I can give you something to help you eat and reduce the intensity of the mood swings," clicked Nadhiya as she left the room.

Tyler barely heard her over the sound of the tiny, fluttering heart, beating right before her eyes. Tiny fists curled and uncurled. The foundation of a crest was just beginning to form on his forehead. Trembling fingers brushed her stomach. Pain pinched at the corner of her eyes, as relief and fear flooded her system. She wasn't alone after all.


	19. Cursed

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to my wonderful beta reader speederina. My last chapter was chock full of errors and she caught them all. I would also like to welcome ZabuzasGirl, Shaviel, Sonya Wesker and wolfofdeath. Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter – even if you don't comment, just knowing you're reading and enjoying keeps me motivated.

Also, a **HUGE**thanks and a hug to Sporkey Anonymous! She created beautiful fanart of Auran and Tyler over at DeviantArt. Search for "Tyler and Auran – Embrace" or her name. Thanks again, Sporkey ^_^

* * *

**Cursed**

* * *

Soft chirps and warbles mingled with the sibilant hiss of the silver waterfalls, its sighing echo whispering across the chilled marble chamber. An elder matron raised her hand, runic symbols and gems tinkling in the low light. The room plunged into silence, words vanishing like vapor. One by one, from youngest to eldest, the matrons bowed their heads. The Mistress approached slowly. Glistening spikes sprouted from black leather. A silken cape draped from her arms, billowing behind like a storm. Cold rage darkened the room and none dared move. Her sharp jade eyes flickered to the only male in the room.

"Sef." The warrior stared straight ahead, still as a statue.

"What part of 'keep him alive' did you not understand?" The warrior said nothing, his pale face frozen and distant. She sashayed towards him, stopping barely an arm's length away. "You remember what happened the last time you went against me?"

The Mistress stepped towards Sef, caressing his chest as she dropped her voice to a whisper. The matrons watched in rapt attention, unable to hear above the constant sigh of the waterfalls. Whatever was said, it broke Sef's carefully constructed wall of detachment. His body went rigid, rage flashing beneath his features. The next moment, he was calm and composed. The Mistress pulled away. "There now. I think we understand each other."

She surveyed the small group gathered around the smoldering fire pit, coals rippling and swelling with heat. "You're sure he's dead?" she growled, not even glancing back at Sef.

He shook his head.

The Mistress hissed and began pacing slowly. Ajenke knew her mother had read the report. That she asked something twice meant she was very angry. And very anxious. Hesra suddenly stepped forward. "What is one male? He can be replaced. That he failed means he's unworthy to fight under your name." The Mistress scoffed. "Oh come now, Hesra. There is no use feigning secrecy when everyone in this room knows what he is."

"Saa. Perhaps it is better this way. With him dead, the Thousand Blades will abandon their search of the Tunnels." The Mistress slashed her hand down dismissively. "Iyan! He was leverage. I could've used him against the Shan. His death was mine to decide and now the opportunity is gone!"

Her mother's lack of control disturbed Ajenke. She knew her mother's hatred of the Shan ran deep. His name was banned. Thousand Blade warriors and females alike were refused entry into the Midnight Blossom, no matter how much bone or skill they possessed. It had been this way as long as Ajenke could remember. But to openly rage against the Shan over something so trivial as a clanless male's death was beyond her. Ajenke narrowed her eyes as she watched her mother snap at a matron too slow to respond. Or perhaps not so trivial. Yet another secret her mother was keeping from her.

"What about his female?" clicked Djesra, her mandibles curling in disgust as she waved her hand dismissively. "She is with child and will soon become a burden."

"And she is infecting the flowers," chimed in Hesra. "I heard she wants to teach them how to operate plasma guns. Ridiculous. If word gets out females are wielding weapons our reputation will be ruined."

"It borders on irreverence," intoned an aged matron. The matrons clicked and growled, arguing the merits and potential harm if females were to learn combat skills. Many worried that it would attract the attention of the Arbitrators. Ajenke ignored the barbed comments directed her way. That a matron would associate with an outsider and encourage other females to learn how to fight was unthinkable. She had few supporters in this matter. She stepped forward, head held high.

"Honorable Mistress, why does the council denounce the very notion of females defending themselves, when you yourself took up arms and led a rebellion against the vile, bloodthirsty gang lords?"

Murmured rumbles rose from the elders around her, the younger matrons remaining silent but attentive, their eyes bright with interest. Ajenke turned back towards the elder matrons, ruby eyes flashing. "A few you even fought alongside the Mistress. How can you criticize others for the same desire to defend yourselves and your home?"

Hesra growled. "You speak of a time you do not understand, Ajenke. We fought because we had no choice. Now we have males to defend us. To breach their right and duty to battle would not go well for us."

"You mean it would not go well for you. How inconvenient for you to lose control of your precious flowers and—"

"Enough!" The Mistress hissed.

As Ajenke turned to meet those jade eyes, she knew it was not her mother that was speaking. It was the Mistress, the embodiment of deadly elegance and bitter vengeance.

"Do you wish to proceed with this, young matron? Know that there will be consequences."

Ajenke's heart fluttered. She'd seen what happened to those who made a deal with the Mistress. There was always a price. Since her failure to kill Ahandra, her mother had been pushing her farther away, no longer protecting her as she once had. Anger flared inside her. Why did she need her mother's protection? She would learn to fight and protect herself.

"I accept them," she growled, raising her chin slightly and locking eyes with her mother.

"Very well. Select the best candidates and hand them over to Ahandra for training." A grave expression drew across the Mistress' icy features. "Every matron at some point has sacrificed her body for the sake of the Midnight Blossom. Though you dance, it is not enough."

Surprise and dread trembled through Ajenke and she fought to keep her roiling emotions contained. She should've known her mother would find out. She always found out.

"To appease the warriors who have faithfully served me for so long, you will serve them. The captains will assign you to the warrior they think deserves rewarding. Hide your face. None shall know who you are." She turned her stern gaze on the rest of the matrons, the promise of swift punishment threaded through her words. "And none shall reveal your duty."

Horror and fury tore through Ajenke. Shocked whispers and satisfied clicks clawed at her back. She felt as her skin had been flayed off. This was worse than when she'd lost to Ahandra. From the corner of her eye she saw Hesra watching her, no doubt waiting for her to break down. She squared her shoulders and kept her head high. No one was going to call her weak. Foolish maybe, but never weak.

Ajenke nearly lost her composure though, when she saw the warrior standing in the shadowed entryway. The Mistress noticed her gaze and turned to see what had captured her attention. An irritated expression fell over her face. "Oh, there you are. What took you so long?"

Zeyin stepped forward, a deep scar carved into his chest. His features were sunken. Dirt and blood coated his body. But Ajenke saw a light in his amber eyes that had never been there before.

"I need to speak with you. Alone."

The matron's quickly shuffled out of the chamber at the Mistress' sharp hiss, chittering quietly in astonishment at the dead warrior's sudden appearance. Sef nodded to Zeyin and left without a sound. Ajenke turned to leave as well, her surprise quickly swallowed by anger. Reduced to a slave! Serving as part of the Gilded Sheaths was coveted amongst the females working the Midnight Blossom, but even that was lower than Ahandra! She clenched her fists, red clouding her vision.

"Ajenke."

She turned slightly, glaring at Zeyin, even though she knew he had nothing to do with her situation. "What?" she hissed.

"Stay near. I need to talk to you as well."

Auran watched the young matron growl in acknowledgement and stalk out of the room, fists clenched, the scent of anger of bitterness mingling with the perfumed air. "One day, Mistress, your cruelty will return to haunt you."

She scoffed. "I've spoiled and indulged that child for far too long. She must learn that life is cruel, otherwise her ignorance will destroy her."

Auran narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. "I know it is not my place, but I know how cruel life can be."

"And you survived. You are stronger for it," she purred lightly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, pain flickering over his face. "Saa, I survived and grew strong. But I lost something precious during those dark times."

The Mistress cocked her head.

"Hope."

A stunned look passed over the Mistress' face. Then she clicked in derision, clucking softly, a smile spreading over her face that did not reach her eyes. "Auran, I had no idea you had a sense of humor." She sighed, her claws tracing his scar's webbed edges. "But I did not hire you to entertain. Your report is overdue. Tell me everything. Leave nothing out, not even the smallest detail."

He proceeded to describe the chaotic market, the prices, which brothels were attracting the most buyers, any news he'd managed to overhear. The Mistress listened intently as he repeated the conversation between himself and the informant, never interrupting until he revealed that the assassin was a Shadow Stalker.

"You're sure?" Her eyes glittered darkly. Auran knew she was relishing the power that came with such exclusory knowledge.

"Saa. He carried a darkblade and fights in a style I've never seen or heard of."

The Mistress hissed as she thought. "This changes things… he told you to go to the Iron Towers?"

"Saa."

"Hmm… why the Great Libraries?"

"Do you have any contacts there?"

The Mistress rumbled, mulling the question over in her mind. "Perhaps… I have not called on him in quite some time. Are you thinking of going?" Her bright jades locked on him. Auran could almost see the machinations and schemes of her mind wrapping around him.

"I don't know."

"Let me know when you decide," she purred, a knowing smile flickering across her mandibles.

Auran said nothing, bowing his head until he felt her presence leave the room. Ajenke soon approached, the rage and indignation wiped from her expression, replaced with the harsh elegance she was known for. "You wanted to see me?"

"Saa. I need you to tell me: is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Is Ahandra with child?"

"Saa," rumbled Ajenke, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Auran swayed as lightheadedness washed over him. A child. A year ago he would've thought it impossible.

"She's thinking of leaving. She said she wanted to go to the Crystal Spire."

Ajenke's words jolted him back to reality. The Crystal Spire. The palace and fortress of the Thousand Blades. "Did she say why?"

"Yan. Only that she had to. That it was the best thing to do." Ajenke's brows furrowed irritation. "She hasn't said a word since."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know. She disappears for hours at a time."

Anxiety flared inside him. Knowing Ahandra, it was only a matter of time before she resolved to confront the Shan. And once she made up her mind, she was almost impossible to stop. He hoped he wasn't too late. "Ak'nandei Ajenke. Before I go, tell me one more thing. Did Rrourk survive?"

Ajenke's expression turned solemn. "Saa, but…. he resides between worlds right now. My- I mean, the Mistress, wants to send him on. Sef is adamantly opposed to the idea. He owes his life to Rrourk. I think his defiance is part of the reason she is so displeased with him at the moment. It is unlike him."

Auran rumbled. "The Mistress does not understand the bonds of a life debt. Sef will ensure Rrourk will live so he can repay that debt. Sef will fight to save Rrourk, even if it means giving up his life."

Ajenke's face suddenly filled with longing. "Such a strong bond. I wish I knew what that meant," she murmured. She suddenly flushed and Auran realized she had not intended to say that out loud. He opened his mouth to respond, a gasp escaping instead. His legs buckled and he collapsed. Pain slowly pinched his chest and Auran pressed his hand against his wound, each shallow breath like a knife stabbing him from the inside. He silently cursed himself. He'd pushed himself beyond his limits. Ajenke knelt next to him, examining his wounds. She tapped her bracelet, ordering for emergency assistance. Blood raced through his veins as his heart slammed into his ribcage. His insides churned. The will he'd drawn on to make this far was frayed. The news of Ahandra and his child had shattered his focus. The God had a cruel sense of humor, if He were to let him die now.

* * *

**,'|-,**

* * *

_Dead._

Tyler rested her head against the smooth edge of the hot spring, shivering as her dreadlocks spilled over the cool stone and dipped into the steaming water. Dark circles lined her tired eyes. She rubbed them, her warm, wrinkled fingers gingerly massaging her swollen eyelids and cheekbones. Pain flushed her face and she pressed harder, digging the heel of her palm into her sockets. She squeezed and rubbed harder and harder, choking as stinging fire bled from her face. Anger swelled inside her chest, suffocating her and deadening the pain. Tyler's fingers trembled as she detached them from her hot skin, ragged growls reverberating through her body.

_Why? Why is he dead! I did everything I thought You wanted me to. Without him, everything I've done to keep the treaty is worthless! They'll kill me. They'll kill the baby. Don't You care what happens? Are You even listening?_

Tyler closed her burning eyes, red-hot pain flaring over her face. She drew in a shuddering breath, anger and despair threatening to overwhelm her. It would've been easy to blame her hormones. They didn't help, but she knew what she was feeling went deeper than chemical changes. For a brief moment she'd been happy. She'd had a healthy son and, despite his aloofness, a mate who treated her with respect. But with Auran gone, she would probably lose everything. Worse, if he let her live the Shan could decide to give her to someone else.

Tyler hugged her legs against her chest and pressed her eyes into her knees. She just wanted to sleep. She was tired. Tired of pondering no-win scenarios. If she stayed at the Midnight Blossom, she would either become an aseinan or be thrown out. If she went to the Shan, she would either be killed or forced to bond to someone else. Either way, she didn't see a chance for her son. She could volunteer for Auran's mission, but would they even consider it? In their eyes, she was a weak female who was once huunan. No sane warrior would trust her to complete such an important duty.

She growled as she stood, swaying slightly after having soaked for so long. She'd hoped the spring would help soothe her anxiety. Tyler reached for the small towel she'd brought and began to dry off when she suddenly sensed she was not alone. She paused, quietly sniffing the air. A male was near. Tyler continued drying off, listening and waiting, hoping whoever it was was smart enough to leave her alone. Footsteps brushed the floor behind her, closing fast. She ran the towel slowly up her leg, unlatching the dagger strapped to her thigh as it passed over. Her dreadlocks prickled in warning as they sensed the attacker's body heat. She growled as she ripped the dagger from its sheathe and spun, slashing it through the air. Strong fingers slammed into her wrist, causing her swing to come to a dead stop. Instinctively, she tried to pull away. Her eyes locked with her attacker's. Tyler froze. _No. It can't be._

She trembled, unable to do anything but stare. He took the knife from her limp fingers and tossed it to the ground. _Auran._

His claws ran over her shoulders and neck, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks while his fingers buried themselves in her hair. He tilted her head back and Tyler sighed as he ran his mandibles over her neck, shivering as he inhaled her scent and tasted her skin. Numb with relief, she reached for him, running her hands down his chest.

She paused, her fingers brushing the thick bandage that wrapped around his torso. She pushed away, struggling against him as he tried to pull her closer. "No. Auran, no, stop." He paused, drawing back, confusion clouding the light of desire she saw in his eyes.

"You're hurt." She pointed to his chest. "You should be resting."

"I'll rest later," he rumbled, pulling her closer.

Tyler dug her heels into the ground. "No!"

His eyes narrowed. "I don't understand."

Neither did Tyler. Everything had felt right. She wanted more than anything to tear off what little clothing he was wearing and drag him to the floor. But something held her back. "No, I don't, I-I just– just stop it. Stop it."

"Stop?" Auran growled, his fingers gripping her arms tighter. "Why? I don't understand."

"Stop pretending!" Heat flushed through Tyler. She was so stupid. She was ruining everything. The one thing in this universe she'd desperately prayed for was right before her and she was pushing him away.

"Pretending?"

"Yes! Stop pretending you want me. I– I'm pregnant. You don't have to – have to be with…" Her voice broke, emotions roiling inside her. "We don't have to do this anymore."

"I know."

Tyler trembled. What did he mean?

"I already know about the child," he rumbled, a hand slipping down to caress her stomach.

"How?"

He shook his head. "It's not important." He pulled his hand from her stomach and gestured to his wound. "This is."

Tyler glanced at the bandages and back, uncertain.

"Four days ago, I fought an assassin with a poison blade. We were evenly matched, but with each cut I grew weaker, until finally he ran his sword through me. As the poison burned through me and death's hand closed around my throat, do you know what I thought of in those last moments?"

Tyler shook her head, her body tensing as he continued, shocked by what she'd heard and afraid of what was coming.

"I did not think of the vengeance I've desired for so many years, and death was no longer a welcomed release; instead it was a terrible phantom, ready to tear me away from the life of purpose I'd suddenly found." Auran's amber eyes held hers and she dared not look away, her heart beating faster with each second. "After wrestling with death, I resolved to do what I had not let myself do all this time."

He suddenly stepped towards her, gripping her upper arms. She could feel him trembling. His amber eyes glowed with hope and fear, and Tyler realized he was baring his soul to her.

"You cursed me from the moment I first laid eyes on you. Beautiful, proud, you were like fire to my skin. I've held back everything, but no longer." Tyler trembled. Fear and joy warred within her heart. "No," she gasped. "You can't, y-you're using me. I'm not one of you. I – I'm hunnan!"

His strong, auburn arms embraced her, a hand ensnaring itself in her dreadlocks and gently pulling her head back. His eyes blazed with desire and desperation. "_I can't live without you._"

He kissed her then. Fiercely. His mandibles caressed and clawed her own, sending shivers of pleasure and pain over Tyler's body. She gasped as he traced her mouth's delicate webbing, heat flaring between her thighs. She locked mandibles with him and pushed back, unable to keep still. With each ragged breath she tasted his desire. She wrapped a leg around his thigh, pressing her hips against his. They fell to the ground in a tangle of claws and limbs. Ahandra fought her way on top, arching her back and hissing in pleasure as they became one.

The last several months vanished beneath a wave of primal lust.

Their scents melded together. So much. Too much. Ahandra gasped, pleasure wracking her body.

She collapsed onto Auran, a blissful numbness enveloping her. Auran gently rolled on top of her, gently kissing her neck and shoulders as he pulled her against him. Ahandra purred as he ran his hands over her skin. Now she was sure. Now she could give her whole heart to him and never look back.


	20. Prophecy

**Author's Note: **Speederina, my wonderful beta reader, will be unable to beta for me for the next few months so you might see a few more mistakes than usual.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**K'chiya** – KIH-chee-yah

**ka'ii** – kah-EE – plural of kai (high priests/priestesses)

**kai'cha** – KAI-chah – priesthood

**kai-ra'cha** – KAI-rah-chah – high priesthood of Ashann

**keskes** – kess-kess

**nak'ta** – nahk-tah – a semi-feline predator residing in the northern and western jungles of Kuuroch

**Natharrak** – nah-THAR-ack

**Rusjia** – ROO-sjee-ah

**shan-ra** – shahn-RAH – lady or queen; the bond mate of a shan

**shan-rai** – shahn-RAI – shan-ra plural; refers to all the bond mates of a shan

**Tor'ekru** – tor-ECK-roo – a northern territory inhabited by several clans noted for their pale skin and blood red eyes – a rebellion ensued when a city state lay claim to the land based on the argument that no formal claim had been made by the mountain clans and that the city needed the minerals residing beneath the icy mountains, one of which of was considered highly sacred. Without allies, the Tor'ekru clans were crushed and its people scattered by slave traders.

* * *

**Prophecy**

* * *

Gaidulus chanted the last rite of purification as he steadied his blade. The nak'ta flashed its crest and hissed, revealing multiple rows of sharp teeth. Deep cuts laced its entire body, but still it fought. This was good. A worthy sacrifice. Its bright orange blood painted the exposed roof of the temple in a gruesome mural of defiance and rage. The animal staggered, its breath coming in labored gasps. It was time. He drew his blade back, both hands clamped around the leather handle, every muscle tense with anticipation. The animal roared and leapt forward. Sparks flew as its serrated claws tore at the hot iron floor. Adrenaline surged through his blood. Muscles bunched into tight knots. Time blurred.

Gaidulus roared and swung.

Flesh split and slurped. Hot blood and ichor dripped over his arms. The nak'ta's platinum body shuddered, a wheezing gasp escaping its three lungs. Gaidulus twisted his sword. Chest bones and muscle crunched and ripped apart. With a heavy grunt, he slammed the creature to the ground. Rust orange gore gushed from its chest as he ripped his blade loose. He knelt, stroking the creatures shoulder with one hand as he closed its black, sightless eyes.

"Well done, brother. You have fought bravely. With your courage and strength you honor the God. May your sacrifice bring His wisdom and judgment."

Sensor drones buzzed past his head as he stood, wiping the blood from his sword with his white robes. He glanced at the gore painted arena one last time before descending to the chamber below, where the interpreters and arbitrators were already analyzing the blood ritual. It would take days, perhaps weeks after the battle was analyzed and the blood patterns mapped before a consensus was reached on which symbols were present and which were not. The sacrificial battle had been long and there had been much blood. He grimaced at the thought of how long it might take for a majority to agree on an overall message. It could be months. Or the council would ask for another battle, as if a sacred struggle with the God was like requesting a holosphere from the Great Library. He rumbled in disgust at the thought. He nodded at the analyzers and temple arbitrators before passing on. Blood prayers were very personal. He preferred to meditate immediately afterward.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped into his private chambers without notice. The last thing he needed was to be distracted with edicts, requests and other sacrifices. Golden sunlight poured into the room and onto the circular platform rising barely an inch above the shallow lavender waters. Gaidulus waded onto the dais and sat cross legged, the heat of the suns beating upon his ridged skull and the dark skin of his shoulders. The warmth soothed the ache in his neck. He took a deep breath, trying to settle his thoughts when the strange scents of wet earth and smoke tickled the back of his throat. He inhaled again, sniffing the air.

"I was wondering when you would notice."

Gaidulus sprung to his feet, reaching for the ceremonial blade usually strapped to his side. His hands grabbed empty air and cloth. Damn. He'd handed it off to one of the young acolytes after the blood ritual.

"No need for swords here, kai. I'm not here to kill you."

Gaidulus growled and spun. Nothing. His adversary was cloaked then.

"Coward… come into the light."

The sharp crackle and hiss of a cloaking device failing echoed from his right at the edge of the pool. As the suit dissolved, the voice's body slowly rose above the water, a pale ghost in black armor. "I think this is close enough."

Gaidulus narrowed his eyes. He did not recognize the warrior's armor, nor had he ever seen a yautja so pale. Except once when he was younger… he pushed away the thought. It was impossible. "What do you want?"

The pale warrior cocked his head slightly. "It's not what I want… it's what you want."

Gaidulus narrowed his eyes. "And what do I want?"

The warrior gave a cold smile. "You've already admitted it."

"I have said nothing."

"Precisely. When I called you kai you said nothing."

"I am not kai."

"You are kai in everything but name. You perform the rituals, the sacrifices, meet with emissaries and counsel your brethren. You blessed the Shan's battle fleet and executed the leaders of a notorious death cult."

Gaidulus growled. "You twist my words well. But if you think I will go against Firak simply to possess his title you are mistaken."

The pale warrior appeared thoughtful and scratched his neck with several longs claws. "Interesting… but then he did say your loyalty was without question."

_He? Who was "he"?_ Names and faces flashed through his mind. Was someone within the priesthood conspiring against him and Firak?

The pale warrior watched him in silence for a moment. "I see in your eyes your search for the truth. You have stared into lies for so long now you have become blind to its poisoned reality. The same reality that now ensnares Firak and eats away at the bond between the two of you."

Gaidulus clenched his fist. How dare an outsider speak of such things. Was the strain between the two of them that obvious? "Enough! Speak your message or leave. I will not listen to your double-mouthed talk any longer."

The pale warrior gave a soft bow. "As you wish." His cold vermillion eyes sparkled in the darkness and Gaidulus found it impossible to look away from their hate-filled depths. "Asharah-kai is planning to take over the kai-cha as the singular kai under the heresy that the God and Goddess are one entity and therefore only one kai is required. Because of Firak's age and since she is already kai, she has persuaded that him that he pass his title, blessing and secrets to her… instead of you."

Rage strangled Gaidulus as white fire bled from his heart and poured into his veins. Iyan! Lies! All of it! "Get out!" He spat, nearly choking on his words, his throat tight and dry. A data core bounced into the light. "Proof that I speak the truth." Gaidulus turned his back to the warrior and closed his eyes. White, hot pressure pulsed within his skull. The suns' light seared his hot skin. Control, he needed to control his emotions. Gaidulus swayed and stumbled forward into the cool, violet waters below.

He drew several shuddering breaths as the fire died in his heart, a numbness enveloping his limbs. He grabbed the data core and squeezed it, the veins in his hand straining against his flesh. He knew what lay inside it. All those countless times Firak had sent him away whenever Asharah had swept into the temple. The utter foolishness! What of the plan? Why would Firak risk the wrath of kai-ra'cha at such a critical moment? He looked down at the datacore. He would have his answers soon. But not here. Not in this place. His refuge was tainted.

* * *

**-/' | ;\- \'/ '|"**

* * *

A warm southern breeze rustled the holosheets, their glistening text shimmering and warping as the sheets curled and uncurled like reeds beneath an ocean current. Asharah rumbled in displeasure, the aesthetic curiosity a trivial distraction. She tapped the table, the holosheets melting back into the glowing surface, and turned her attention to the bright crimson sky, her gaze fixated on the lonely lavender sphere silently hovering over the misty mountains, its icy rings sparkling in the bright light of midday. Sa'arezan's rings would've melted away long ago, were it not for a strange chemical compound that kept them eternally cold. Only the hellish surface of a sun could shatter the moon's icy crystals. Asharah watched as several scarlet sparks flashed briefly in the upper atmosphere. Ga'oul, the Scarred Warrior, lurked not far behind the Huntress, warping her gravity fields and flinging her icy stones down upon Ashann. Such a thing had not happened in centuries.

_When weeping maiden's tears burn the night…_

Asharah narrowed her eyes. The prophecy was already in motion. They had a year, maybe, to stop the one Firak called Natharrak, the Dark One. Ever since Firak had revealed the secret catacombs and the ensuing assassination attempt, she'd become unbalanced in spirit and in mind. The soothing chants and purifying rituals had become mundane. She no longer knew who to trust. And the strong walls of the temple now suddenly felt like a prison. Everything she'd thought she knew and believed in was crumbling before her eyes.

The dark thoughts evaporated as her acolytes entered and she quickly masked her unease. All were considered loyal, but she had requested that her shield guards track their movements. So far, no one had raised her suspicions. And she would need to confide in them soon. She could not do this alone. The secret ate at her, like a worm gnawing and sucking at her soft insides.

The acolytes quickly and quietly prepared her for the meeting, rubbing oils and spices through her black tendrils, sharpening her claws and painting heat absorbent spirals and scriptures onto every inch of exposed skin. Asharah nodded at the choice of the flowing golden robes and cape; it would complement the royal red that permeated the Thousand Blade's inner fortress perfectly.

She was about to face three of the most powerful females in all of the nine continents: the Shan-rai, stewards of Kuuroch while the Shan battled his way across the stars, earning glory for clan and city. Long ago, the high priest and priestess would've been considered equal, if not greater than the rulers of the fledgling kingdoms being created across the entire world. The last several months had been a humbling experience. The only power she possessed was that of mystique and the reputation of the previous ka'ii. It was vital she make the appropriate impression on the ruling clan.

When she was ready, she led her pupils to the temple's landing platform where Rage and her two new primary shield guardians awaited. The wounds Rage had received several months ago had twisted his handsome face. It suited him, Asharah thought, the jagged scars evoking his fearsome personality. He bowed and climbed up the platform to prepare the ship. She followed her grim guardian, Venom not far behind. The wiry protector scanned each room of the ship then stood by the main door, arms folded, swaying gently as Rage engaged the thrusters and the ship ascended. She wasn't sure what to make of her newest shield protector. He was the perfect example of a Poison Dagger. Cold and calculating one day, unpredictable and rash the next, jovial and playful the third. She couldn't understand Rage's reasoning to promote such a volatile warrior, especially one hailing from a clan with a questionable reputation, even if its bloodline was flawless. Asharah tapped at the control panel by her side, the windowless walls of the ship melting away to reveal the outside. She turned away from the stunning view for a moment to glance about the cabin once more, looking for any sign of the third warrior. Ghost, as usual, was nowhere in sight.

Asharah stared out of the false viewports as the vessel banked, the gleaming Crystal Spires glittering with white fire, the breathtaking creations the result of hundreds of massive diamonds embedded into smooth, white stone. The towers, all thousand of them, were arranged into ten spiraling rays, merging and fusing at the center to create the Star Tower.

The craft came to sighing halt, hovering mere inches above one of the many alabaster ledges blossoming from the central spire.

Asharah glided down the ramp, her acolytes fanning out behind her. Rage and Venom stayed behind on the ship. Males were forbidden to enter the Star Court until the Shan returned. That wouldn't stop Ghost from making himself at home within the walls and crevices of the fortress.

Thunderous war horns announced her presence. Every Thousand Blade within the city's heart was now aware that a distinguished guest had entered the Great Hall. As she stepped towards the entrance, the golden doors seemed to melt away, orange sparks bursting forth as the doors hid themselves inside the walls. She did not pause to marvel, her steps measured and certain, her face a mask of serenity.

A sea of courtiers, politicians' bond mates, artisans and advisors crowded the white hall for a chance to catch a glimpse of the elusive high priestess, a kaleidoscope of silk robes and feathers in vermillion, amaranth, opal and amethyst bursting from every corner. She recognized faces, voices, females that Firak had urged her to memorize and meet. Some she might have called friend. Others filled her soul with revulsion and it took everything she had not to drag them to the temple and toss them into the purification pool beneath the sacrificial altar and keep them under until their skin turned orange from soaking so long in its bloody waters. Asharah ignored the stares, instead focusing her gaze upon the three females standing atop the raised dais. Only the Shan-rai mattered.

The thunderous war horn sounded again, its deep rumbling growl vibrating the very ground. Asharah stopped. One heart beat. Two heart beats. She bowed, her acolytes quickly following.

Asharah rose and took a final step forward.

The room held its collective breath, waiting. And then, as one, the Shan-rai bowed their heads. A hushed sigh swelled across the room and as one the sea of females bowed their heads. Asharah stood motionless, her breath deep and even, drawing strength from the ritual greeting. Golden bangles and chains clinked and shimmered as the head wife, Jaiendra, spread her arms in greeting. "Welcome, great kai. Such a pure spirit honors us all." Jaiendra stepped down the dais stairs, red silk trailing from her swaying hips.

"Blessings upon the Shan-rai. May your wisdom continue to guide Kuuroch till the Thousand Blades return victorious," responded Asharah.

At an unseen signal, black clad aseinan wearing faceless silver masks ushered the on looking guests into the outlying rooms and gardens. Her acolytes fanned out into a semi-circle, seating themselves along the bottom of the stairs. One of the youngest stumbled over her long robes as she dashed for a spot. Asharah hid a smile. She wasn't supposed to have favorites, but K'chiya made it impossible. All the acolytes adored her. She took a deep breath and looked away. Today would not only test herself, it would test her pupils. Today they would learn the truth about the prophecy and of the ambitions of the Shan. Ghost would not only record the meeting, but her acolytes' reactions to the topics discussed. This would help determine who was ready to accept the mantle of leadership in the event of her death. Which could be anytime now, according to Firak.

Her eyes widened in surprise as the floor shimmered and swirled, chairs and a low, round table rising into the air. She'd heard such technology had been expanded outside of transferable holosheets, but to see it with her own eyes was unexpected. She quickly masked her emotions as the four of them sat in unison. Asharah shifted uncomfortably as the chair hugged her back and thighs. Its shifting molecules followed her every movement, as if they were somehow attached to her skin. Jaiendra of the Howling Phantoms on the other hand, lounged easily across from her, appearing as if at rest and ready to rise at any moment, a sly smile continuously pricking at her mandibles. To her right sat Essilin, straight and tall, her mask and dark, flowing garments leaving only her tightly bound hair and folded hands exposed, as was custom of the some of the Singing Blades' sub-clans. Asharah glanced to her left. Thet, the Shan's newest and youngest wife from the Poison Daggers, sat cross legged in her seat, gossamer silk and short hair only emphasizing her youth. She sat perfectly still, eyes downcast.

Asharah had barely crossed her legs when Essilin turned towards her, a low growl underpinning her words. "Kai, why have you come? What have we done to offend the Goddess?"

Jaiendra clucked disapprovingly. "Forgive her kai, she has a tendency to cut to the marrow of the matter."

"I am not offended, Jaiendra Shan-ra. Such direct conversation is refreshing," Asharah replied.

"Oh?"

Essilin slowly turned her face to Jaiendra. "Do not be foolish, honored sister. The ka'ii only appear in time of great joy or great sorrow. Your son was born cycles ago. Therefore, in the eyes of the priesthood, the Thousand Blades has committed an egregious sin and the kai has come to exact a blood price."

Jaiendra rumbled and sat up at the mention of her son. Crimson silk caressed her stomach and shoulders, her plump breasts swelling with each breath. Asharah narrowed her eyes and thought of her own smooth chest completely hidden in gold cloth.

"Your logic is sound… sister." The first wife leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest. Goosebumps prickled over Asharah's skin at such an aggressive, albeit subtle, posture. "What accusations do you bring against the Thousand Blades? Do you intend to purge us as you did your temple?"

"I intend to have answers. Then I will make my judgment."

Jaiendra smirked. "I think you already have your answers and you've already passed judgment."

"I have not," growled Asharah. "But I can pass it now."

"Shouldn't you ask Firak-kai for permission first?" she hissed.

"How dare you!" Asharah leapt to her feet. Jaiendra snarled as she stood. Through the haze of anger Asharah could hear her acolytes chirping in shock.

"What right do you have to interfere in the Shan's plans?"

"None are above the Goddess!"

"I do not see Her in this room."

The high priestess shook with fury. Blasphemy? Unforgivable! "Unforgivable! Prophecy or no prophecy, I'll see Shaidra's soul ripped from his body before I turn a blind eye!"

Essilin stepped in front of Jaiendra, cutting her off. "Yak'sallah! Did you not hear what she said?"

The shan-ra snarled in rage and lunged, grabbing Essilin by the throat and shoving her onto the table. The move jolted Asharah awake from the blood haze. The second shan-ra silently struggled as Jaiendra drove her deeper into the table. "You've forgotten your place Singing Blade! Never. _Ever_. Interrupt me again… sister," she hissed, before releasing her grip. Essilin rolled to the floor, clutching her throat and gasping for air at Jaiendra's feet. The shan-ra gave her one last cool glance before fixing her gaze upon Asharah.

"What prophecy do you speak of? What has Firak kept from the Shan?"

The kai let out a low growl.

Jaiendra flared her mandibles. "The insolence… if you don't tell me I'll—"

"What? Raze my temple to the ground? Torture me?" Asharah let loose a high pitch rumble. "I'd like to see that shan-ra. What will you tell the Shan when he returns that you've not only lost the support of both kai, but your clan is embroiled in an inter-clan investigation by the arbitrators and temple arbites?"

The silence was deafening. Neither female moved, eyes locked in a battle of wills.

Essilin broke the trance. She sighed as she sat back in her chair. "Enough Jaiendra, I think we're all satisfied."

"Saa," piped in Thet, her wide, silvery doe eyes staring up at Asharah. When Asharah stared back she hugged her knees to her chest and looked away.

Jaiendra sighed and placed her hands on hips. "Very well."

Anger flushed Asharah's cheeks. "What is going on? I am not done with you."

Jaiendra sat back, a pleased grin tickling her mandibles. "We had to know what sort of kai we were dealing with. Your mentor was quite the kai. As calm as the Rrusjia Sea, with humor as dry as the peeling bark of a keskes tree. I find your reaction much more understandable. Aggressive and confident. These are traits I understand and admire."

"You were _testing_ me?" Daka! How many times had her mentor warned about jumping to conclusions? She could have destroyed everything in one breath! Asharah glanced at each of the shan-rai. Each had played a different part in the little charade. Jaiendra took her head on, while Essilin instigated from the side. Thet, invisible during the entire argument, was watching her as closely as Ghost was. On the one hand, she was impressed by such an elaborate ruse. On the other hand, if the trio could deceive her so easily, when would she know that they were speaking the truth? She couldn't, she decided as she sat back down. This could be another ruse, designed to lull her into a fault sense of security. She would not let her guard down again.

"I'm impressed shan-rai. I underestimated you."

"I admit we had to improvise the last part," Jaiendra continued, glancing over at Essilin.

"My apologies." Essilin bowed her head.

"But Essilin's keen ears cannot be ignored. You mentioned a prophecy, kai. What prophecy do you speak of and how does it relate to the Shan's plan?"

"Forgive my reticence, but a mere moment ago you were shouting out blasphemies and threatening my life. If Firak has not revealed this to the Shan then why should I reveal it to you?"

Jaiendra cocked her head thoughtfully. "Hmm… you have a point. But then why else are you here?" She folded her hands, golden eyes sparkling with interest. "I believe your intent this entire time has been to reveal this prophecy to us. But for what purpose I can only speculate…"

"To aid the Shadow Stalker on his journey."

Thet and Essilin looked at Jaiendra. A dark expression had fallen over her face at the mention of that clan. She was hiding something, Asharah felt sure of it.

"And," continued Asharah. "I must examine the thras'ka for any sign of impurity."

"Our physicians have already examined it for mutation and disease. It is complete and able to fulfill the requirements of the blood bond."

"Perhaps. But I must know if her soul is intact. It is still debated whether huunans and other lower beings are gifted souls. I intend to uncover the answers to these questions."

"I see," Jaiendra chittered. "And what does it matter if it has a soul or not? The Shadow Stalker deserves little better. I do not see what this has to with the prophecy."

"It has to do with my support. That the thras'ka was kept from me is an insult to the Goddess and I will ensure that the female is found acceptable in Her eyes and not just based on some physician's examination."

"Understood kai," said Essilin before Jaiendra could speak. Asharah thought she caught a glimmer of rage in Jaiendra's eyes at the second wife's interruption. "The Thousand Blades will make what whatever sacrifices you deem necessary to atone for our disrespect."

"Thank you, Essilin shan-ra."

"What of the prophecy?" clicked Jaiendra irritably.

The high priestess took a deep breath. "Firak and I believe it is the Shadow Stalker who is destined to save Kuuroch from a great catastrophe. It is why the kai chose him last storm season. "

The shan-rai perked up at the word catastrophe.

"Let us hear this prophecy, honored kai." Essilin gestured for her to stand.

The wind rustled her silken sleeves and cape. She closed her eyes, the rhythm of the words welling up inside. She sent a small prayer up to the Goddess, wondering if She could hear it without the strength of a slain life force behind it.

"_The stalemate shattered, the shadow doomed to wander,_

_darkness born from ashes, an ancient foe unleashed._

_When the dragon thirsts for more than light_

_and weeping maiden's tears burn the night,_

_then shall the star born appear._

_Slave and warrior,_

_savior and abomination._

_Two in one, sealed by blood,_

_three in one, sealed by fate._

_The dead will rise and the stars will fall,_

_till the destined one wields the Pure Flame._

_Then shall the star born die,_

_that the curse may be broken,_

_and the Truth set free."_

The wind died as the final words escaped her mandibles. A sudden peace descended upon her, as if She had indeed heard her. The first shan-ra cut through the moment like a hammer crushing a new flower.

"Explain kai. Does this mean the shan will succeed or fail? Who is the star born?"

"And who is this ancient foe?" murmured Essilin. "Is it a foe of the Thousand Blades or Kuuroch?"

"Sa'arezan weeps," whispered Thet. "I watch her on the roof at night."

"You are forbidden to go anywhere without an escort," hissed Jaiendra. Thet didn't seem to hear her. Asharah watched as the little shan-ra silently recited the prophecy. Had she memorized the whole thing already?

"Kai, I want this prophecy and any analysis you and Firak have uncovered delivered to me as soon as possible. The Shan must know of this."

Asharah bowed her head. "Very well. But first, you will take me to see the thras'ka."

Jaiendra's flawless features hardened, her eyes nearly glowing. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Ku'rozei?"

"She's not here," piped up Thet, a mischievous smile spreading her mandibles.

"Thet!" hissed the first shan-ra.

"She's hiding in the Tunnels somewhere. The Shadow Stalker took her there after one of your priestesses tried to kill her," she continued, as if Jaiendra words were nothing more than a fly buzzing about the room. Essilin grabbed her, dragging the young shan-ra from the room without a word. Asharah stared in shock.

"Forgive Thet. She likes to make up—"

"Please do not insult my intelligence, shan-ra."

Jaiendra growled softly.

"Pick your next words carefully, Jaiendra. I have listened to all manner of lies and half-truths these last few cycles. Your attempt just now is not the worst, but it is far, far from the best. And I grow tired of the word games you nobles enjoy playing."

The first shan-ra's claws dug into the chair. "If you insist, Asharah. What Thet said is true, the Shadow bastard took his prize and scurried into the Tunnels barely a day after they were bonded. The Thousand Blades have been searching for them ever since. But it's been difficult. The authority of the Shan is not recognized within that corrupted maze of clanless murderers and thieves."

"Any leads?"

"We've isolated the search area to the western segment of Kuuroch. The only problem is… it's controlled by the Mistress," Jaiendra growled. "She has been a thorn in the Shan's side ever since she rose to power."

"I see…" murmured Asharah. "Let me know the moment you find them. It is of utmost importance that Firak and I see both of them."

"Of course," smiled Jaiendra.

Asharah gave the ritual farewell and strode from the Star Court, shell shocked acolytes in tow. Ghost materialized beside her. "Did you get everything?"

"Saa." His voice was disguised with a metallic growl. His arms whirred and clicked, both completely mechanized after they had been ripped off during the Tor'ekru Rebellion years ago. He was completely encased in war armor, leaving her to wonder how much flesh remained.

"Good. I will see you at the temple then." Asharah didn't need to look to know he'd already disappeared. She growled softly. She would have to be patient a little longer. No matter what Firak or the Shan said she should she do or think. She_would_ examine the thras'ka.

And kill her if necessary.


	21. Thrilendu

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Karakan – **KAIR-ah-kin

**sharin'atharr –**shah-RIN-ah-tharr – Shadow Stalker

**threitak –**THREY-tack – fire blood, bloodfire – the inner rage that possesses all yautja, especially males, that is suppressed and unleashed in a variety of ways

**thrilendu –** thri-LIN-duu – literally the "time between time" – it encompasses four days (four is considered unlucky or an ill omen) at the end of the Ashan'ii calendar. It is a time of remembrance during the four years the people fled from the yautja homeworld after Ashann was slain. The New Year is celebrated afterwards with sacrifices, fights, contests and feasts.

**xora –**ZOAR-ah – plural and singular form for a huge reptilian-like bird – their images are often seen decorating clan symbols and monuments

* * *

**Thrilendu**

* * *

Dusk settled across the land, and one by one the glittering lights of Kuuroch winked out of existence, the gleaming Star Tower the last to fade into the burgundy twilight. Xora called to each other from atop the lonely spires. Without the thunder of the trade ships and drone of industrial machines their banshee cries carried for miles. Only the guardians, wrapped in shadow and black capes, walked the empty thoroughfares. Above, the three moons shone like brilliant jewels against the backdrop of the fiery orange and crimson gases of deep space.

Deep beneath the city, the churning miasma of the Tunnels lay dormant, the fat slavers and exhausted whores grateful for a respite from the never ending grind, for there was no night time or day time, there was only the next time. The next gamble, the next fight, the next customer. A rat race to nowhere.

It was Thrilendu, the Time Between Time. The end of one year and and birthing pains of the new.

Auran kept his gaze ahead, keeping a steady pace. Dark shadows flickered in the twilight of the Tunnels. His pursuers had been stalking him for the last half hour, the distance between them closing with each passing minute. There were three. Hungry, dehydrated and desperate. They thought him easy prey, wandering alone in the Tunnels while everyone else slept or drank the night away. Probably eat his bones rather sell them to money makers. He had hoped to reach the Operator unmolested, but the Tunnels it seemed could never truly rest, its damned and dying children always on the prowl for their next victim.

The pathway spilled down into a smooth-bowled intersection that split in three directions. He would make his stand here, he decided, and turned to face his hunters.

His bold move made them hesitate. They wavered in the shadows, restless, hissing at each other, likely over what to do next. Auran waited, his stance casual, his right hand loosely gripping the hilt of his darkblade. They slithered down the sides, unsheathing their knives and crude axes, keeping their distance until they had formed a loose triangle. Hisses and snarls echoed around him as they inched closer and closer. He could see the drug fueled mania in their eyes now, the black of their pupils bleeding into the irises. Sallow skin sagged from jutting bones. Only one type of drug could destroy the mind and body in such a way. Xashi.

The one from behind charged first.

Auran tore his sword from his sheath and spun, slicing his attacker across the chest. The male howled as blood sprayed from the wound and he toppled to the ground. A second male lunged for his stomach. Auran parried the long knife, cutting off its owner's hand in one fluid movement. The male cried out, collapsing in shock. His head toppled to the ground a split second later, blood spurting from his throbbing neck veins. The third hunter roared and slashed at the air. Auran blocked each desperate stab with ease. The male stumbled as Auran drove him back with several powerful blows. His darkblade glinted in the ethereal twilight as it slashed upwards, splitting the male's chest and face in half. The body twitched as blood pooled onto the ground.

Auran stepped back and surveyed the carnage. An unnecessary waste of life. The pitter-patter of claws skittering over the walls and floor echoed from all around. A groan stopped him as he was about to leave. The first warrior rolled onto his back, blood oozing down his jaws. The touch of madness had dimmed in his eyes.

"Please… kill me… please."

Auran stared at him for a moment then walked over to where he lay. It was over quick. A stab to the heart. In a few short seconds the male sighed his last breath. Auran wasn't sure but he thought he heard the male thank him. He shook the blood from his sword and moved on. The scraping and shrieking had grown louder now. He ignored the soft bodies that brushed against his cloak. Behind him the shrieks grew louder, as dozens of the mutated rats fought and gorged on still warm flesh and muscle.

* * *

**-/; -|- ' ,'**

* * *

Auran scrapped the yellow slime from his boots against the edge of the metal grated walkway before continuing. _Damn slugs._

"I see my pets greeted you properly," chuckled the Operator as he spun around in his seat. Several of his acolytes looked up from their work benches. A sharp hiss sent them quickly back to their luminescent screens. The Operator turned back, his smile gone. "You're late."

"Is the route set?"

"Do you have payment?"

Auran tossed him sensor key. "This will grant you one night's access to the Black Room. Use it within the month."

"Mmm," he purred, stroking the grooved edges with a claw. "Most generous of your fine Mistress."

"Any news of the surface?"

The Operator tapped his chin with the key. "By now the Star Tower will have gone dark. The first night is always the quietest. A bit of a risk to go now, I would think. Why not wait till the new year dawns and there are throngs of revelers in the streets?"

"There's not much time. I only have a cycle left." He paused before continuing. "And I hate crowds."

The Operator barked a short laugh. "On that I will agree. The chaos. The noise. No, I much prefer the solitude and order of my sub-system. A fine system, she is. All curves and mystery." He traced a clawed hand over the console, his expression growing grim. "The worms, those infernal demons, take more chunks out of her each week, even slide their disgusting, bulbous bodies through her like they own them."

Auran climbed into the transport and strapped in. The Operator signed _safe journey_. A soft thump shook the transport as the clamps disengage. The craft shot forward, and as he hurtled through the darkness, Auran's thoughts drifted to Ahandra and their last moments together…

* * *

**|/' ;\ | |-**

* * *

He nuzzled her soft neck and massaged her lowered back, shuddering as her small claws ran through his dreadlocks. Auran's mandibles searched for hers, delicate caresses quickly morphing into desperate grasping. He pulled her down to the floor, relishing Ahandra's soft moans. Time passed in a blur of burning pleasure and desperate cries. He gasped for air as his blood sang through his veins, every fiber of his being alive. Ahandra trembled beneath him, glowing in the lowlight. Euphoria and exhaustion flooded his body and he fell next to her, purring softly, drifting in and out of sleep. He could stay here for a long time he thought as he glanced at Ahandra's sleeping form.

A voice in the back of his head whispered, _Then don't leave. Stay. Who will protect them if you're gone?_Auran rumbled and sat up, his contentment suddenly replaced with agitation. He stared at the dark waterfall that hid their little cave.

Ahandra had found it while exploring the hot springs. They used it whenever they needed to get away from the confined spaces of their one-room home and away from the prying eyes and ears of the male warriors. Here they could talk, whisper and touch to their hearts' content. In this place, Auran had found himself learning to let down the walls he'd built up. They would tell each other stories. He would tell her of the worlds he'd seen, the strange creatures and occasionally intelligent beings he'd watched from the treetops. Ahandra told him battle stories from her past. They fascinated him; female warriors were unheard of in most parts of the world. She would smile with pride when she spoke of her comrades. Other times, when she spoke of the terrible things she had seen, she would fall silent, her eyes watching whatever disturbing memory was playing out in her mind. He glanced back at Ahandra, lying on her side, one hand resting on her protruding belly. A mixture of confusion and pride swelled through chest. He wanted to stay. His body and mind ached to stay. But his spirit was restless. Auran had never stayed in one place for so long. And he needed the truth. He needed to know if there really were other Shadow Stalkers like him. And how they were linked to the xashi trade. The Mistress was keen on gathering intelligence about her latest adversaries.

Ahandra made a small noise and shifted, distracting Auran from his brooding thoughts. He watched her skin slowly grow hot, her limbs twitching. She groaned and rolled onto her back, gasping for air. Auran crouched next to her. He shook her. It was happening again. Her breathing became ragged. "Ahandra," he whispered. "Ahandra, wake up."

Her eyes snapped open and she tried to shove him away. "No! Get away!"

Auran grabbed her hands and clasped them in his. She looked around, her breath slowing as she took in the cave and his voice. She sighed in relief as she lay back. "Thank God. I thought it was real for a moment."

"The nightmare?"

She nodded and closed her eyes.

His expression turned grim. She'd had the same nightmare over and over. He was no priest, but even he knew enough to heed dreams. "Was it the same as before?"

"Yes. No. I was in the tunnels, running. You woke me up before I found the center of the maze." She sat up slowly, grunting as she pushed off against his leg and the floor. He watched as she rubbed her eyes, growling in frustration. She did that when she was upset. He found it strange. "Why do you do that?" Ahandra looked at him, her face flushed and tense with some unknown pain. "Because it hurts. It won't come out," she said. He cocked his head and leaned in for a closer look. "I see nothing in your eyes." Her smile twisted into a grimace as some unknown pain shot through her head. "The uh, the water won't come out," she explained, running her forefingers from the corners of her eyes down her face. Auran sat back for a moment and thought. "Is this… a huunan emotion?"

She sighed again, the heat from her face beginning to drain away. "Is how we— I mean they, express pain and sorrow."

"That is what anger is for."

She snorted. "I have plenty of that. I don't see how everyone can be so calm, with this fire," she tapped her chest, "trapped inside all the time."

He sat next to her. "I will tell you what Iyeiden told me when I began to first feel the burning pain of threitak."

"Threitak?"

"It means 'burning' or 'fire blood.'"

"What did he tell you?"

"Do not fight it, but do not give in. Either way leads to destruction and dishonor. Instead, master your anger. Like a sword, it is a part of the body. Threitak gives you the strength to defend and the courage to fight."

He watched as she absorbed the principle that most warriors learned as they matured. It hadn't made sense to him back when he had been young. Now he understood the deceptive release of threitak all too well. "I don't understand. You mean it never goes away? But you always seem so calm."

He smiled softly. "If you could've seen the dark fire in my soul you would not think so. Anger. Hate. Vengeance. Without these I would I have let myself die on some cursed world long ago. They were my only reason for living." He looked into copper eyes then. "Then I found you."

She blushed and looked away.

"You were not what I expected. I expected a cringing, deranged creature with no understanding. Instead, you were brave, calm. A warrior."

Ahandra clicked in disbelief. "You're forgetting the part where I ran away and defied you every chance I got."

Auran leaned back and looked her over. "Hmm, you're right. Maybe I should take you back and ask for a more docile mate."

She looked at him in shock, then punched at him. He dodged and pulled her into his lap, her surprised squawk making him chitter. She scrambled away awkwardly, realization dawning on her. "Daka! You were teasing me!" She punched again, this time catching his well-muscled shoulder. Ahandra pulled her hand back and shook it. "Ow." He couldn't help but smirk.

Ahandra's smile faded suddenly and she climbed into his lap, kissing him with a sudden intensity that confused him. She pulled away, hands still caressing the sides of his face. "Promise me you'll come back." Auran rumbled, slightly puzzled. "Alright."

"Three months."

"A cycle? But—"

"No buts! You are going to be here when the baby's born." She pressed her fingers against his mandibles when he tried to protest. "Promise me this." She pulled her hand away and kissed him again, her mandibles gently prodding the tender skin around his mouth. He was suddenly aware of her breasts, swollen with milk, brushing against his chest. "You're making me soft," he rumbled when she pulled away, unsure if this displeased him or not. It was a strange thing of her to ask of him. Males had little to do with birthing. Most females didn't want males in the room, even if there was a male child being born.

"I didn't hear your promise."

He sighed. "I promise. But this means I'll need to leave sooner."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"But I thought it was forbidden to travel during Thrileido?"

"Thri_len_du. And it is. But it shouldn't be a problem. I only have to worry about the arbiters patrolling. They will be spread thin and will walk pre-assigned paths that favor the main roads."

"Alright." She didn't press him. He could tell she hadn't expected her promise to mean them separating so soon. But this was probably better. The sooner he was gone, the sooner he could return. Hopefully.

Ahandra brow furrowed. "What should we name him?"

He stared at her. A strange question. "What?"

"Our son," she sighed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He huffed. "Nothing."

Now it was her turn to give him a puzzled look. "What? Are you teasing again?" She balled her hand into fist in a mock threat. He batted it away. "Yan. Offspring do not receive a name until they are at least three hath old. Some do not receive names until they begin to mature. To name them before then is considered bad luck. Otherwise, Chetanu will find them before they gain threitak and are strong enough to resist."

Her brow furrowed again. He wasn't sure she understood. "Oh… so that's why no one's asked me yet. I guess I shouldn't have picked one out."

Auran shrugged. "I have no names and do not believe in that superstition anyway. Name him what you will."

"Do you want to know?"

He looked into her large copper eyes staring hopefully up into his, her face perfectly framed by her flowing black locks. He hesitated. Saying no seemed like the wrong answer. He slowly nodded. A smile spread across her mandibles and he inwardly sighed with relief that he'd picked the right answer. Ahandra's mood swings and strange questions always caught him off guard. She pushed aside his hair and then gently whispered the name into his ear…

* * *

**-/ , | /\ -;**

* * *

_Seinu._

He rolled the named over in his mind, testing its sound, its strength. _Seinu._A foreign name to Kuuroch. She'd picked it up while listening to the females gossip about their clients. She did not know what it meant, only that she liked the sound of it. His stomach began tying itself into knots. His son suddenly became more real. Those were no longer pieces of flesh knitting themselves together in the darkness of Ahandra's womb. It was his son, Seinu. And he'd left him with the Mistress. He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing. No, they were safe. The Mistress needed his cooperation in order to completely destroy the xashi trade within her territory. She wouldn't lay a finger on them.

He took a deep breath, the fire of threitak dissipating. The second principle of mastering threitak: once you understood it, you must find a way to master it. Iyeiden made sword music. Auran meditated. Over the years, Auran had mastered the differing levels of zazin to calm to the rage in his heart when he could not unleash it.

A tremor shook the small transport. Followed by another. Auran thought it strange. There weren't any fault lines he was aware of—

A thunderous roar filled the air, smashing the craft into the wall. The next moment he was on the floor, the shriek of warning sirens and an unearthly howl waking him. He dragged himself upright, clutching at the control panel to see what was going on. The transport had managed to center itself, but it had lost considerable speed and whatever had hit them was gaining fast. A ravenous howl vibrated the capsule and sent chills down his arms. A Tunnel worm. A big one from the sound of it. What in the name of the God was it doing so close to the surface? A voice crackled to life on the comm system.

"Transport six-six-dash-four-one-two this is the Operator. What in blazes did you do to my ship?"

Auran tapped the response key. "This is Zeyin. It's a cave worm. It's on my tail and the transport is losing speed." Garbled curses and shouts were all he could make out for a moment. He felt the tunnel shudder.

"Operator? Operator can you hear me?" He could hear metal groan and buckle all around him. The transport began to shudder violently. Another string of barked curses followed. "Damn worm is using my sub-system!"

Auran looked behind him, even though it was almost pitch black. A small light flickered in the distance behind him, steadily growing brighter. Not good. "Operator! Get me to the nearest emergency exit channel now! I need to get to the surface."

"If you slow down completely that thing will catch you."

"The safety exits are smaller, right?"

"That don't mean nothin' to these slimy bastards! They'll squeeze right through!"

"It's my only option! Get me out of this death trap!"

The craft veered sharply right, slamming Auran against the wall. He scrambled into his seat, gravity weighing him down as the vehicle shot up towards the surface. Emergency lights flickered past him every few seconds. The shorter the intervals between the lights, the closer he was to the surface. The sub-tunnel shuddered around him. The Operator's garbled voice penetrated the darkness. "—u've got –idding me! Zeyin! The damn thing is following you!"

Just his luck. Auran charged up his plasma gun and huddled against the control panels, bracing himself as he aimed at the rear of the craft. Superheated plasma flashed through the air, punching through the cabin walls as if they were made of plastic. "Stop burning holes in my ship!"

Auran ignored the Operator's rants, focusing his sights on the glowing life force of the ravenous behemoth tearing through the emergency portal after him. The emergency signals flickered past him in one second intervals. He had a minute, maybe. The plasma dispenser thrummed on his shoulder as he set it to maximum. He fired three shots. The first two glanced off the creatures swollen head harmlessly. The third tore off a chunk of one of its lower jaws. This only served to piss it off more.

"Chetanu damn it all! Zeyin, there's an error in the emergency hatch. Something's blocking it."Auran didn't answer. He fired off another shot, burning a gaping hole through the side of the creature's mouth. Emergency lights streamed past him in a hellish staccato, the world flickering between darkness and the frozen image of the worm's petalled jaws inching closer every second. The worm howled in hunger and rage as it thrashed after him. He could see down its throat now and all of its thousands of small, razor sharp teeth designed to shred prey to keep it from climbing back out. He checked his power level. Low. He turned and blew a hole through the glass viewport, firing a stream of low-burst shots at the dark, dead end speeding towards him. _Light, light, show me some damn light already!_ He could smell the stench of the worm now – slime, earth and a hundred rotting corpses. The emergency lights bathed the tunnel constant hellish red. His heart hammered in his chest. Alarms flashed across his mask as the plasma cannon started to overheat. Five seconds. No time to think.

Auran turned and leapt from the transport into the mouth of the worm.

* * *

**| -;- ,' |-**

* * *

He stabbed his wristblades into the side of the worm's slimy jaws, narrowly avoiding being gored by the creature's teeth as it closed its mouth and slammed through the blocked exit. Metal, earth and wood ripped and groaned as the creature burst onto the surface. Auran swung himself through the hole he'd burned through its jaws moments earlier. Leaves and vines whipped past him. He scrambled for a hold, his claws finally digging into a branch, jolting him to a stop. He quickly scrambled down the tree. The worm appeared disoriented by the huge space of sky above it. Its four-petalled jaws split as it released its sensor tentacles to probe the smells in the air. Auran slipped quietly through mossy vines and ferns, hoping he could put some distance between himself and the creature.

Suddenly, it turned around. He dashed behind a large tree and pressed himself against it, remaining absolutely still. By some miracle or stroke of luck, the beast slithered back down into emergency tunnel, no longer interested in such a troublesome morsel.

When he could no longer hear the sick shuffling of its bulbous body Auran's legs gave out and he slid to the ground. He sat there, he wasn't sure how long, listening to the hesitant calls of the insects and small reptiles. He observed he was somewhere along the main river that wound through the city. The emergency exit platform, what was left of it, had been consumed by one of the small forests that grew at the bases of skyscrapers. He glanced around the tree at where the worm had fallen. A long swath of trees lay crushed and splintered. They reminded him the worm's jagged throat and he looked away.

When his legs felt steady, he continued on. The tunnel had carried him slightly east, but not far. He was only a few miles from the Iron Towers and the northern edge if the city was less densely populated. Even if someone glanced out of their window, all they would see was an arbiter patrolling. The Mistress had come up with the disguise. She had been quite pleased with herself.

The pink light of the suns painted the horizon as he stood at the foot of the great library's bridge. The two famous towers rose above the ziggurat, rust red guardians that watched him as he strode across the bridge to the courtyard. There were usually a few priests wandering about that studied away their days and nights here. The slaves that tended the gardens in the morning were also absent. Sudden movement caught his eye. He drew his sword. "Who's there?"

A shadow detached itself, melting into the dawnlight. Auran lowered his weapon slightly. A digitized hiss escaped the warrior's throat. _"Auran Drakenatharr?"_

"Saa. And you are?"

"_One who has been waiting for your arrival. Follow me."_

Auran sheathed his sword and followed the shadow warrior. Black clad male wound through the silent labyrinth of data scrolls and shelves with ease, stopping in front of a long shelf that hugged a wall. Then walked right through it.

Auran stared, cautiously approaching. He took a deep breath and stepped through, his dreadlocks tingling as he passed through the strange energy field. The short corridor led to a staircase that curved out of view. His guide had disappeared. Auran rumbled and continued on. He did not like it, but he had no choice. He'd come too far.

The staircase led into a large chamber, empty except for the shadow warrior and a familiar opponent. The assassin. Auran recalled the pain of the assassin's sword burying itself inside him. His chest tightened at the memory. The shadow warrior he'd met in the garden bowed and slipped away. The assassin turned his attention to Auran, his vermillion eyes assessing him the same way they had a cycle ago. "Welcome, Shadow Son. You have passed all three tests."

Auran stared at him. "What three tests? The only test I recall was you leaving me to die in the Godforsaken Tunnels."

"That was the first. You passed the other two today."

Auran felt his blood heat up. The three males that had attacked him in the Tunnels. The worm. Impossible. "I can see how you might persuade the three males who attacked me, but I do not believe you when you say you sent a cave worm after me."

The assassin's cool composure did not change. "Whether you believe or not, does not matter. What matters was your performance. The Master was quite pleased with it."

"The Master?"

"You will meet him in time. For now, we will train you in the ways of the Shadow Stalker."

Clicks and soft shuffling echoed around the chamber. Auran's sword hand twitched, his dreadlocks prickling in warning. "We?"

"Your brothers, of course. We will be your masters, and this chamber," he gestured to the room, "will be your home." The exit behind him shifted and morphed until it blended with the walls. Auran unstrapped his cloak and pulled off his mask. He would show no fear.

The assassin gave him an approving nod. "Good. You are ready." He stepped back several paces and Auran realized he was inside the outer ring of a large circle, filled with several smaller circles. "For your first lesson, you will learn to see the unseen. Do not leave the circle."

Auran dodged a slash from behind. He heard a noise near him and turned, a foot smashing into jaw. He spun, blood spraying the air. An invisible rain of boots and clubs followed.

"Enough!" commanded the assassin. The beating stopped. Auran struggled to his feet. His opponents were invisible. And they were fast. Somehow during the beating his sword had been removed. He was supposed to dodge invisible opponents _and_ not fight back? He suddenly felt like a child again, when his cousins would corner him and beat him until they grew bored. If he had even scratched one of them in retaliation and Iyeiden wasn't around to protect him, the adults would whip him until his back turned a raw red.

The memories distracted him and he didn't hear the fist aimed straight for his gut. Air shot from his lungs and he collapsed again. He struggled to his feet, unable to breathe. _Concentrate dammit!_ He danced back as two swords slashed at his legs and head, twisting to the side to avoid an invisible barrage of fists. The torches suddenly extinguished, plunging the room into complete darkness. Auran hesitated a fraction of second and a blade ripped across his back. He cried out and stumbled. As blows rained down the rings of each circle began to glow.

Auran rose to his feet again, threitak warming his chest and numbing his wounds. Weak. How could he have let himself grow so weak?

"When you are able to dodge for a full lighting of the inner circle," the smallest circle went dark, "you will be allowed to block. When you are able to remain on your feet for the entire lighting of the second circle, then you will be allowed to attack." The assassin's voice echoed in the darkness.

Auran's blood burned through his limbs. Finally, he was being acknowledged. Finally, he was on the path to redeeming his clan's honor. No more watching from the shadows. No more hiding amongst the stars or in the depths of the earth. Here, the old Auran would perish and be reborn. A thing of flesh and shadow, vengeance incarnate. A sharin'atharr. A Shadow Stalker.

The assassin watched the one called Darkblade twist aside as one of the masters sliced down. There was no longer any hesitation in his movements. They were far from perfect, but if he could master the Path of Shadow then he would rise to become one of the most skilled the clan had ever produced. That he had survived this long beneath the suns, surrounded by mortal enemies, was a testament to the young warrior's natural abilities and determination, even if he was unaware of it. The circle was half-lit when Darkblade made his mistake. Karakan made him pay for it in blood. The circle reset and the dance began again.

* * *

**\|/ -'; '| /-**

* * *

The warrior slowly opened his eye. He tried to open his left one. Nothing. When had he lost it? The good eye searched the room for a clue as to his whereabouts. Dozens of machines surrounded him, probing his body. He could feel their wires and filaments wriggling throughout his veins and organs. He could sense the terrible pain waiting beneath the surface of his consciousness. The more his body awoke, the more the pain fought to break through. He needed to get out of here. Shards of pain jolted his left shoulder. A monitor screeched and a machine whirred. He recognized the faint green-yellow glow of pain suppressants being fed through its lines. _No!_ Even as he thought about destroying the machine, a mechanized hand reached over and ripped it from his arm. He tossed the crushed piece of metal aside and examined the hand. The five clawed digits were connected to a black arm, which was embedded into his aching shoulder. He raised his head and looked down at the rest of his body. The lower part of his left leg was also fitted with black metal. With a growl he tore out what few machines were foolish enough to remain attached to him, smashing the screaming heart monitor as he stumbled off the padded stone table towards the door. His face hit the door and he cursed long and loud. He needed his other eye. _Turn on, you chjit machine!_His eye suddenlychirped to life, symbols streaming across it as if he were wearing a mask. He ignored the pre-programmed instructions about how to operate his new limbs. He could see. That was all he needed. He ripped open the door, startling Nadhiya.

"You hulking barbarian! What are you doing?" She suddenly noticed the mess behind him. Her face turned a deep maroon. "_What have you done to my equipment?!_"

"Chjit machine was tryin' ta poison me. So I turned it off."

"Did that plasma blast melt your brain as well!? Do you know how much it has cost to keep your worthless male hide alive? I should've let you die!"

Rrourk ignored the small healer as he tried to remember how he had gotten here in the first place. He hated the healers. He would never come here on his own. A face popped into his head. _Sef._And then everything came back – the mission, the assassin, the bomb blast and Sef cutting him free of the debris.

Rrouk's deep growl slowly morphed into a chuckle. "That bastard. He finally managed ta repay the life debt he owes me. Chjit." He pushed the still fuming healer aside. He wondered how long he'd been out and what had changed…

* * *

**-; /\ ;|**

* * *

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to GrayHuntress for assisting in the creation of the name for Ahandra and Auran's little bundle of joy. And what's this? Rough and rugged Rrourk is back? Wonder what he'll think of all the changes I've made… ;)


	22. Armor

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**da-kade** – dah-KAH-deh– a variation of daka meaning a fool that is ignorant or oblivious

**Djas'iya** - JAHSS-ee-yah

**E'kru** – eh-KROO

**Orune** – oh-ROO-neh

* * *

**Armor**

* * *

_Ahaaaandra. Ahandruh. AhHAANdrah. _She rolled the name around inside her head. It reminded her of the name Andrea. But harsher. No, stronger. Stronger sounded much more positive. _Ahandra Drakenatharr. _What a mouthful. Then again, she didn't technically have a last name. No one did, really. Most either gave their clan name or a name they'd earned. She wondered what hers sounded like backwards. _Ardnaha_.

She wasn't quite there yet, but she was starting to get used to it. Ever since Auran had told her he loved her – 'couldn't live without her' were his exact words since there didn't seem to be a word for 'love' – she'd decided to officially make the switch. Alejandra "Tyler" Vasquez was all just a jumble of memories now…

"… wrong."

Ahandra blinked and looked down at the little girl tapping her arm. She'd been daydreaming.

"What Djas'iya?"

"You're doing it wrong, Ahani."

Ahandra looked down at her stitching and winced. She tugged at the twisted, half-finished mess. "Lak'shura. I was daydreaming." Djas'iya clicked and shook her head, as if she was the adult and Ahandra was the patience-testing child. This earned a giggle from the rest of the girls in the circle. Ahandra smiled and said nothing. She enjoyed these moments. She couldn't patrol the dance rooms – she glanced down at her stomach – for obvious reasons. And the kitchens exhausted her. Plus she was a terrible cook. The day the head cook had all but tossed her out had been a serious blow to her ego. She'd been a great cook back home.

Home.

Ahandra stopped stitching. Sonya would be 13 now. Carolina would be starting college. Emmanuel may have gotten engaged. She'd liked his girlfriend.

"Ahani."

"Hmm?" She was having a hard time picturing their faces. She didn't dream in visible light anymore. Except during the nightmare. It never changed.

"What's wrong? Do you miss the Captain?"

Auran. The little ones always referred to him as that, then sigh, as if he were some knight in shining armor. "Saa. But I was thinking of home. Now that I am here I cannot go back."

"Ever?" One of the youngest piped in. Her older sister shushed her.

Ahandra nodded. She glanced around the circle at the large, sad eyes looking up at her. "Aw, don't be sad. I'm happy here with you." This perked them up instantly. Djas'iya started tickling her with a feather. "Ahani's cursed! Pinch her to make it go away!" Little fingers bit into her skin and Ahandra growled softly in mock anger. Beneath the barrage of pinches she spied Ajenke watching a few feet away. "Ajenke – ouch! – Ajenke, save me! Ow!"

Ajenke glared at them and the little ones scurried back into place, their heads buried in whatever blanket or garment they were currently working on. Ajenke made to leave. "Come, Ahandra. I need your help getting ready." Ahandra grunted as she struggled to stand. _And I need your help getting up. _

When she finally heaved herself and her stomach off the ground, she followed Ajenke back to their shared complex. Compared to the one Auran had, this was spacious and warm. Ahandra sat on the furred bed they shared, her feet and back already killing her. She looked down at her belly, picturing her baby all snug and content. _When did you get so fat? You better stay in there till your father comes home. _Ajenke, meanwhile, had been ranting about the other sheath bearers the whole way back, the matron sheath bearer in particular. It seems she relished Ajenke's "demotion", assigning her whenever she got the chance to least desirable males or the most menial of tasks. Tonight, the Midnight Blossom's warriors were gathering to celebrate the return of Rrouk who, according to the rumors, had awoken believing he had been captured by the enemy and destroyed the 'poisonous torture devices'. Nadiya was… enraged, to say the least.

Ajenke tossed her robes on the floor and stepped into the small, cylindrical shower in the corner. "What do you feel like wearing tonight?" asked Ahandra as she walked over to the wall. She tapped it, the panels splitting apart to reveal several shelves and mechanized drawers.

"I don't care," came the terse reply. Ahandra sighed and rifled through the folded garments. She was probably dancing, which meant she needed something light. Ahandra glanced at her friend, whose back was turned to her. Ajenke's thin frame was just standing there, letting the water run over her head and down her body. Steam fogged up the glass walls, making her lifelight appear faint, almost ghostlike. Ahandra turned back to the closet, guilt tugging at her chest. She wondered for the hundredth time if she shouldn't confront the Mistress, even though Ajenke had forbidden her. She clenched her fists, anger warming her body. It was unfair. She'd been ordered to train Ajenke. Why was it so wrong to accept other females who wanted to learn? Who had complained? Ahandra dug through the outfits, tossing them on the floor in frustration. Ajenke hadn't blamed her for anything. Instead, she'd blamed herself.

_She should blame her mother, _Ahandra thought as she tossed aside several pieces of fabric that could hardly be considered 'd prayed for a solution to her friend's suffering. Of course, she never expected a direct answer. But a hint, a dream, anything was better than watching her friend waste away, all for the sake of her twisted mother's approval.

The shower cut off and she grabbed an outfit to lay on the bed before Ajenke snapped at her for being slow.

She didn't even bother drying off, heading straight for the bed. She stared at it for a moment then rumbled flatly, "What's this?"

"It's my armor, some of it anyway. No weapons obviously. We're about the same size so you can even wear my mask instead of the sheath bearer one."

"Yan."

Ahandra grabbed a towel and began drying her off. "Come on, now. If you hated what I pick out for you, you wouldn't keep asking me to do it. Besides I remember you saying you'd always wanted to wear my armor." Her friend didn't respond. She just stood there, tired-eyed and numb, lifting her arms robotically on command. Ahandra wanted to shake her. This wasn't the confident, beautiful female she knew. This wasn't her fault. Just stop the training sessions. She snapped the leather chest armor into place. But she'd already tried that argument. Ajenke loved training. She poured herself into learning how to fight and shoot. She was the best marksman in the entire group after E'kru. So when Ahandra had argued that they quit training, she'd exploded.

And that's when she'd realized the only thing that was keeping her friend going was the training.

Ahandra snapped the vambraces into place. "You know… I'm not sure the weapons training is enough." This got Ajenke's attention. "Being able to shoot is all well and good, but without armor there's a greater risk of injury. Plus, I think it might boost some of the trainee's confidence."

"Females in armor… ridiculous," muttered Ajenke. But Ahandra could already see the wheel's turning. She began pacing. "These would be specialized pieces. A crafter could charge whatever price he wanted. Unless we can get multiple bids…"

"Can we even find someone willing? Last time I brought it up you said it was taboo."

Ajenke glared at her. "I don't recall ever uttering such nonsense. And besides, few things are taboo down here. Which why all the surface dwellers come. So they can live out their strange and disgusting fantasies that they pretend to deplore up above. Chh!"

"I see… so it_ is _taboo, but it doesn't matter, is that what you're saying?"

"Precisely."

Ahandra rolled her eyes when Ajenke turned away. "But the question still remains: who would make the armor?"

"I know people."

"Who?"

"That's none of your concern. While I'm gone I want you to get measurements. And create the designs." She waved at the work desk softly glowing in the corner. Ahandra glanced between the machine and her friend. "Ajenke, I can't read, remember? You're a good teacher—" _Liar,_ squeaked her conscience "—but I've only learned how to write and pronounce the alphabet."

"Chah! I am not da-kade. I have set it to accept voice commands."

"Oh… Does it have games?"

Ajenke gave her a blank stare.

"You know… virtual games?"

Her friend snorted. "You are the strangest firendi I've ever met, Ahandra."

Ahandra shrugged, which earned her a raised eyebrow.

Ajenke clipped the mask to her belt and then wrapped a cape around her shoulders before she headed out, concealing her outfit. Ahandra wanted to say something, but all she managed was a quiet goodbye as her friend slipped, the door hissing shut behind her.

* * *

**-;- ,|' \- '|/ ****-',**

* * *

Clicks and chirps filled the air as the females prepared for the night's entertainment, stretching lean muscles and braiding each other's locks. Ajenke leaned against the wall, arms crossed. No one had approached her, so maybe the outfit was working.

A shadow loomed over her. "What do think you're doing?"

She bit back a growl as she faced Orune, Matron of the Sheath Bearers. Her spotted face wrinkled in contempt as the matron inspected the armor, reminding Ajenke of a soured naxa fruit.

"I'm standing here," Ajenke clicked.

The matron hissed and shoved her face in close. Ajenke could smell heqsa on her breath. "Don't play dumb with me! What are you doing in that ridiculous outfit? Are you trying to turn the males _off_?"

Adrenaline shot through Ajenke's chest at the matron's proximity, the snickers and whispered hisses burning her ears. Orune's ugly, spotted face filled her vision. She wanted to claw at it, rip it apart. How dare she approach her without permission and then shove her snarling face against hers! Ajenke balled her fists instead and hugged her crossed arms tighter against her chest. Ahandra would disapprove if she lashed out without being struck first. A stupid rule.

Orune backed off, clicking in disapproval. "Ugh, you smell like a male." Another round of snickers. Ajenke growled and stalked off, hoping no one saw her blushing. She did not smell like a male! She'd bathed in honey not an hour ago. Ajenke found a dark corner to brood.

Soon, she could feel the thrumming of the drums, their rhythm moving through the soles of her feet and snaking up her body. It was an exquisite feeling. Husky growls of approval echoed down the corridor and her anticipation was replaced with dread. She could already smell their musk, a bitter tang that pinched her throat shut. The leather suddenly felt tight. What was she thinking? This had been a terrible idea. Too late. Orune's screeching voice soon dragged her out of her hiding spot. Ajenke's legs felt like logs as she slowly made her way down the corridor. The matron looked her over again when she arrived. "Shaa, you look so unfeminine." Ajenke tried to ignore her and glanced about the room. Ale flowed freely. The males caroused, shoving and shouting in good-natured drunken brawls. A dancer nimbly evaded a staggering male's lunge. In the back, Ajenke could make out several sheath bearers and guards grasping and heaving. At the center of it all lounged the two captains, Rrourk and Sef, and their strongest officers. They were all drunk, but were holding up better than their subordinates. A couple females had latched onto Rrourk, one refilling his drinking horn while another ran her fingers through his dreadlocks.

"Well, it doesn't matter," continued Orune. "They're all drunk anyway so they won't notice how ugly you look. When you're finished find Urrek. He's to be rewarded for assisting in the take down of several saboteurs trying to disrupt our power supply." Ajenke's blood boiled. Ugly? She looked at the two females pressing themselves against the Second Captain, thin, lacy garments cascading from their hips and shoulders. Then she looked down at herself. Black straps clamped snuggly around her thighs and arms, while leather and metal hugged her bodice and hips. She didn't look ugly – she looked like a warrior. Just like Ahandra had said.

Ajenke shoved Orune out of the way, sashaying to the center of the room with. She would dance her best tonight. Let all the males see what they could have. And then leave. Urrek was sleeping alone tonight. Her plan of defiance felt exhilarating. And terrifying. Orune would be furious. And _he_ might notice. She squeezed her fingers into fists to keep from trembling.

The drums beat in time with her heart. Her feet pounded the ground, and she arched her back, rolling her hips and head. Several heads turned. She flung her arms out, blocking invisible foes, her body arching and twisting as she dodged thrusts and jabs. Roars of approval rang out. She kicked and leapt, spinning and heaving, the drums growing louder, her blood pumping faster, the room a blur of faces and sounds. The drums roared and she sang with them, her body and the music one.

She gasped for air beneath her mask as the music came to thunderous finale. Drunken howls of approval rang out. Just like when she used to dance on stage. More. They wanted more. She smiled.

Too bad.

She turned to leave only to find Orune blocking the exit, her eyes smoldering with rage. Her skin had drained of warmth, shrouding her spotted face in a deep burgundy. "Where do you think you're going?" she hissed. She grabbed Ajenke's arm, her claws sinking into her flesh. Ajenke bit back a yelp of pain. "You're serving Urrek. And once you're done I swear I will break you. You think you've suffered these past two months? You haven't seen anything y—"

A large chest blocked Orune's path. The matron's squawk of surprise died in her throat when she saw who it was. "O-oh! Captain Rrouk! I didn't see you there. Please, excuse me."

"Yer excused. She stays."

The matron tried to drag Ajenke away. "Captain, my sincerest apologies but this one is inexperienced. You would find her talents far too… raw for your tastes."

"I'll be the judge of that." His tone was sharp, a growled threat laced in between his words. Orune's grasp tightened for a second. Then she shoved Ajenke towards him.

Ajenke's arm throbbed in pain, but she ignored it. He was a head and a half taller than her. Thick cords of muscle rippled and stretched beneath his bronze skin. His golden and glowing red eyes stared at her with an intensity that melted her bravery. Rrouk. The Captain of the Second Guard. One of the strongest and fiercest warriors living in the shadow of Kuuroch. It was impossible. He couldn't know.

He unstrapped his sheathed axe and held it out to her. Ajenke stood there, staring at it, not sure what to do. Did he want to fight her? Shocked hisses and gasps escaped the small group of onlooking females. Rrourk's grip did not waver and he never took his eyes off of her. She hesitated, then took it, holding back a grunt of surprise at how heavy the weapon was. Rrourk turned and made his way through the boisterous crowd of males, ignoring the backslaps and shouts. Ajenke watched him, unsure what to do next. Orune shoved her forward.

"Get going and follow after him," she hissed.

"What is going on, Matron? Why did he give me his weapon?"

"Shah, ignorant child. He has made you his personal sheath bearer. Until he asks for you to return it to him, you belong to him. Let's hope you learn some humility during your service."

Belong to him. The words sucked the air right out of her lungs. Ajenke didn't remember leaving the celebration. Or the walk to Rrourk's quarters. The axe felt like a great chain. Her injured arm twinged and she lost her grip, the great axe clanging onto the floor. Ajenke sank to the floor, trying to heave the weapon into her arms. The wickedly curved axe head wouldn't budge. Her arms might as well have been made of straw. She punched the stone floor. _Daka! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Ahandra wouldn't give in. And neither will you. _Growls and curses littered the air as she dragged the giant axe the rest of the way, tossing it on Rrourk's doorstep with loud _clang._ She stumbled back, her arms suddenly feeling like jelly. The door hissed open. Rrourk stepped out. With one fluid move he picked up the axe like it weighed next to nothing with one hand and dragged her inside with the other. A cry escaped her throat as his hand squeezed her throbbing arm. His grip relaxed but didn't let go and he pushed her against the wall, turning her back to him. The cold metal sent chill bumps over her stomach and arms and Ajenke tried to keep as still and as quiet as possible, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. A thumb traced the faint bruise already spreading beneath her skin. Her throat felt dry.

Piece by piece, he ripped off her armor and tossed it aside. Everything except her mask. Heat radiated from his body as he pressed against the cool skin of her back and ran his mandibles over her neck and shoulder. Hot breath washed over her shivering skin as he sniffed her scent, the smell of heqsa filling the air. A whispery growl broke the silence. "Ya didn't think I'd notice, did ya?"

Ajenke's heart pounded in her chest. Did he know?

Sharp mandibles continued to caress her next and shoulders, his fangs nipping her flesh. "Take off the mask… Ajenke."

"Y-yan, it's forbidden," she managed to gasp. She tried to pull away, to make herself smaller, but he was everywhere, his huge frame wrapped around her like a curtain of heat and skin.

A growl rumbled from his chest and through her body. He spun her around, palms laid flat against the wall, thick arms blocking her escape. His golden eye burned with a frightening intensity. "I'll say what's forbidden. _Now take it off_."

Ajenke's shaking fingers flipped the pressure switch. The mask unsealed with a hissing pop. She slowly pulled it off, the last shred of protection she had left gone. Rourk's metal claws dug into the wall beside her head as she dropped it on the floor, his muscled arm bunched and tense.

"Yer afraid?"

"Yan," she hissed. Such a pathetic lie.

He looked over her body. "All those nights I watched you dance. And you knew it too, teasin' and tauntin' me. It drove me mad some nights. I took it out on my subordinates. And then Ahandra came and started yer trainin'. Sometimes I saw yer arms and legs covered in scrapes and bruises and that drove me mad as well. And then tonight. Tonight, I was going to forget ya, finally take however many females I wanted and drink till yer honeyed skin didn't _suffocate_ me anymore. And then there you were," The wall groaned as his metal fingers dug in deeper. "_What in the Dark God's name are ya doin' as a sheath bearer?_"

Ajenke trembled. She could hear the agony of his desire in his voice. A part of her relished it. To have conquered such a prime specimen and left him in pieces. Another part, a part that had grown the more Ahandra had spoken about how much Auran meant to her, how much he cared about her, was abhorred. She was just like her mother. Using people. Her mother used people for vengeance. Ajenke used people for attention. And she'd lapped up the Second Captain's attention.

"I made a deal," she whispered. "It was either stop training the other flowers how to fight or give myself to the Midnight Blossom's warriors as tribute."

Rrourk went rigid, as if she'd dumped a bucket of ice water on top of him. "How long?" he rasped.

"Two months."

"That- that u'laude kalai!" Ajenke flinched as Rrourk smashed his mechanized fist into the side of the wall, cracks spidering out from the large crater he'd left. "She knew! As soon as I was gone, she does this! I never even touched ya!" He wasn't looking at her anymore, his burning gaze fixated on some memory she couldn't see.

"What are you talking about?" Ajenke snapped, her fear morphing into anger. "Isn't this what you wanted? What did you think would happen when you complained to the Mistress?"

"Ya really think I'm that stupid, don'cha?" Rrourk growled. "I never said a word to the Mistress."

Ajenke' brow furrowed as she struggled to understand, her almond shaped eyes darting around as they searched for an answer. "What do you mean? If you didn't complain then who did? The matrons were saying the all the males were offended. That they threatened to leave."

Rrourk growled. "Only a fool would leave this place. Most have never had it so good. They already work fer females, so a few females playin' sword ain't gonna bother 'em."

She sucked in a sharp breath. "But that would mean…" A snarl spread across her face and she shoved at him. Rrourk barely moved. Her push might as well have been wind blowing against a boulder. Her hands felt hot and she balled them into fists. She'd never touched him before. They only shared fleeting glances, a gesture here, a nod there. A secret conversation with unspoken rules.

Ajenke continue to glare at him, lest he get the wrong impression and think her weak. "Iyan. I won't believe it."

Rrourk huffed. "I knew ya was a bit spoiled and naïve, but I had no idea she'd brainwashed ya. Ya actually think it's yer fault, don'cha? That ya deserve this."

Her stomach twisted. "No, it's- it's just that- I needed to earn my place and…" She stuttered, unable to meet his gaze. She hated how pathetic she sounded right now.

"Is it?" Rrourk rumbled. Ajenke didn't have an answer. She was missing something, a crucial piece of information that would make everything she'd experience suddenly make sense. She looked up at him. "Do you know the answer?"

He shook his head. "Yan. All I know is that yer here because I wasn't there to protect ya. Sef will never refuse her. He can't. The reasons are… complicated. And the Mistress has Auran by the throat because of his mate and child. Even _if_ the deal had been struck, no one would've been allowed to touch ya. I'd've made sure of that."

"Protect me? I thought you said you hated me?"

"Don't go twistin' my words," he growled. "Aye, ya drove me crazy. I couldn't mate with a female in peace without yer swaying hips or honeyed scent haunting me. But then one night some male grabbed ya and pulled down on his table and everythin' went red. Nearly killed the bastard. That's when I realized you were somethin' special… somethin' different…" he trailed off. Ajenke watched him struggle to find the words. He cursed and took a step back, his fleshed hand running over his crest. "I can't think straight with ya so close," he rumbled.

Ajenke's heart sped up in her chest as a strange idea lodged itself inside her head. She took a step forward and reached out to touch his metal shoulder. Rrourk flinched as he'd been bitten and stepped back. "Whaddaya think yer doin'?"

"Nothing." She took a step forward. He took one back. She reached for him again and he pressed himself against the wall.

"Stop that," he rasped. The familiar scent of his musk filled the air. It had always smelled of bitter herbs and spice when she'd caught whiffs of it in passing, but here, in this small space with just the two of them, it was overwhelming.

Her body warmed in response and she pressed forward, enjoying the sudden change in the power dynamic. It was just like when she would dance on stage and he would watch her from the crowd. Only now it was just the two of them. She ran her hands over his pebbled chest, excitement fluttering through her as she felt him stiffen. Orune had been wrong. Ajenke didn't belong to him. He belonged to her. He always had. She traced his jagged scars and ochre stripes, marveling at their patterns, enjoying every shuddering gasp that escaped his throat. "Rrourk, I want you to kiss me." His single golden eye snapped open, the fires of lust burning within them nearly shaking her newfound confidence. "I- I can't."

Ajenke growled and jerked his head down, locking his mandible with hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck to keep him from pulling away as their mandibles fought, grasping and clawing. His gasps of surprise quickly morphed into groans. He picked her up and she wrapped her thighs about his waist. Somehow they ended up on his furred pallet, nuzzling and nipping at the soft skin of each others' necks and shoulders. Electric pleasure pulsed through her body. It was beyond anything she'd expected. At most, slight discomfort was all she had hoped for after the pain she'd endured with other guards. Ajenke shuddered as warmth flooded between her thighs.

The urge to mate, to be filled, overwhelmed her and time descended into a tangle of limbs and desperate cries.

* * *

**'/. ';- -\-**

* * *

Rrourk tugged at her belt, a deep whine escaping his throat. Ajenke batted his hand away and he settled for running his hands over her thighs and buttocks. "You know I need to leave, I've stayed here all night. Someone will notice I'm missing and come looking." Rrourk rumbled. "I don't see the problem. I'll just tie you up and say I'm not done with ya yet." She pushed his hands away again, softly growling. Twice in one night was enough for her. She grabbed the rest of her gear and tried to make a dash for the exit but Rrourk was faster than his size let on. Metallic and muscled arms wrapped tightly around her thin frame. He stroked her neck, the pricks of his clawed mandibles warming her thighs. "When will I see ya again?"

"Daka. I must come whenever you call, remember?" She closed her eyes as his hands roamed her body.

"When do you want me to call ya?" His fingers began to push beneath her loin guard.

"Maybe tomorro— ah! Tonight! Tonight!" she chirped, grabbing at his hand in a futile effort to escape. He released her when he decided he'd had enough fun watching squirm. She growled at him and stalked off, pretending to be irritated.

She found Ahandra asleep in their chambers. She shook her, impatient to talk. "Ahandra!" Her friend groggily sat up. "Mmgh... Ajenke? What happened?" Her eyes suddenly brightened. "What happened? Are you alright?" Ajenke huffed, doing her best to hold in her excitement. "Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

Her friend looked her over, confused. "Are you sure?"

Ajenke couldn't hold back a smile any longer and she sat next to Ahandra, lowering her voice as if they were conspiring. "You'll never guess what happened last night."

* * *

**Author's Note:** A semi-OC chapter. I've been wanting to pair those two together for a long time now. Let me know what you think. If you find any grammar issues, message me and I'll edit them out. Be on the look out for the next chapter: "Spear".

Thanks for reading!


	23. Spear

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Harsan** – HAR-san

Issedra - ee-SEH-drah

**Shurrun** – SHUR-un

* * *

**Spear**

* * *

A soft clatter drew Auran from the depths of zazin. His eyes flickered open, pupils contracting as the bright crimson light of the training circles filled them. He scented the air, taking several deep breaths, mandibles spreading open to draw in as much as possible. Nothing. Only the faint smell of dust and smoke. Auran shifted slightly, rolling his shoulders and neck to work out the kinks that had built up over the last hour. Or two hours. Time was meaningless in this abyss. How long had he been down here? A month? Two months? He didn't know. And no one would tell him. In fact, no one told him anything, except for the assassin. Harsan, he'd learned, was his name. Each time Auran completed the next phase of training, he appeared, told him what he needed to do next and then left.

Silver glinted out of the corner of his eye and Auran looked down beside him. Ahandra's necklace. His brow furrowed slightly. How had it fallen? He picked it up, the beaded chain hissing as it fell through the small holes cut into the elliptical metal. Auran could've sworn he'd secured it inside one of the small pouches attached to his belt. It would be unwise for anyone else to learn of the depth of his bond with Ahandra, including his own blood. They might use it against him, just like the Shan and the Mistress.

He wrapped the thin chain around flat metal, recalling the promise he'd made to her during their last moments together. Ahandra's large copper eyes and the tight set of her mandibles had been filled with anxiety. _Promise you'll come back in three months. Promise me you'll be there when our son is born._

He tucked her necklace back into the folds of his belt.

Seconds. Minutes. Time trickled by_. _Zazin eluded him. The more he sought it's depths of oblivion the stronger his feeling of unease grew, brewing in the pit of his stomach like sour heqsa. This was different from the hunger of his wanderlust, his need to search and explore. This felt like… a warning.

Auran leapt forward, flipping upright and drawing his sword. He parried Harsan's next strike, slashing at his legs to push him back and off-balance. Harsan danced away, rounding on Auran from the side. They traded lightning-fast blows, sparks flashing in the darkness. The assassin weaved in, jabbing his blade straight for Auran's stomach. Auran redirected the strike, his sword screeching in defiance as it raced along its opponents edge straight for his master's arm. The assassin let go of the blade, slapped Auran's sword down and grabbed his own blade in a blur of motion.

Harsan's blade pressed against his neck, several warm droplets of Auran's blood dripping off its black hilt and onto the floor. Auran remained perfectly still, a smirk tugging at his mandibles. His mentor's eyes narrowed, then widened in surprise as Auran's blade pushed against his neck as well. It was a stalemate.

Auran withdrew his blade first, satisfied at being able to match the skilled assassin. His master's crimson eyes appeared to glow as they absorbed the red light bleeding from the ground. "Well done. Perhaps you've learned something after all."

Auran bowed his head.

"Yet not a moment ago I sensed a great restlessness inside you. You let your guard down."

Auran's stomach tightened. His master had seen the necklace. "I have been down here for many weeks."

A ghost of a smile creased the assassin's eyes. "I see…"

Auran held his breath.

"So impatient. The final generation, _your_ generation, are much less patient than their forefathers. The discipline of patience is the binding force that holds together our clan's way of life."

Auran lowered his head a little more to signify his humility. And to hide his relief. Harsan had either accepted the excuse, or he didn't find the matter worth pursuing. Strange.

"You remind me of your father."

His heart sped up a little. "You knew my father?"

"Saa. In passing. He was impatient. Imprudent. At least, for Shadow Stalker. He would smirk the same way you do whenever someone challenged him. I remember the day when the young ambassador Iyeiden of the Singing Blades fought him."

A jolt of surprise made Auran look up. "Iyeiden?"

Whatever Harsan thought of Auran's breach, he did not show it. "The Singing Blades were not well respected amongst the Shadow people. Where we fight in silence and anonymity, their method of fighting was viewed as… pretentious, boisterous. And incredibly foolish. Shurrun, your father, was amongst the most vocal of those who disagreed with allowing more open trade with the surface. A blood feud had been raging between several clans vying to merge or gain ties with the high clan of Kuuroch. The Shadow Stalkers had maintained neutrality throughout the conflict. As long as the Thousand Blades remained in power, we had no reason to intervene. The Singing Blades were one of the young clans that had gained favor after the conflict and, with the blessing of the high clan, were eager to establish trade with N'tharralis."

Auran remembered the whispered conversations around the fires as the elders spoke of the bloody clan wars that had raged within the city before he was born. Like a dry plain struck by lightning, the fire of battle had swept through Kuuroch and then burned out before most knew what had happened. "I knew Iyeiden was once an ambassador, but he never mentioned this. Or my father."

"Sjaienthess is cunning. Always was. He knew Shurrun was one of the ringleaders of the dissenters. Silencing him would tip the council in his favor. But he had to do it such a way that neither side felt dishonored. He asked the council permission to battle for the right to trade. A simplistic solution. With an ingenious twist."

Auran hung onto every word. He didn't dare interrupt.

"As the two faced each other, Iyeiden proposed a radical challenge: that they battle with their opponent's blade. This way, it was not the sword that would win the battle, but the warrior's skills and clan style. Before anyone could say a word, Shurrun accepted, confident he would win."

Auran couldn't hold back his disappointment at the implications of Harsan's words. "But he lost."

Harsan nodded. "What Shurrun failed to realize and respect was the complexity and skill it takes to handle a fluted sword. The result was painful, to say the least. Iyeiden won the trade rights— barely mind you, for Shurrun was a ferocious fighter— and Shurrun was left humbled. But no wiser, I'm afraid. A rivalry grew between them, each one coming up with ridiculous contests of skill. They were friends in the loosest sense of the word. Until Issedra came between them."

Auran cocked his head, going over the short list of temporary bond mates Iyeiden had held over the years in his head. None of them had gone by that name. A lump began to grow in his throat and he swallowed it. "My mother?"

His master nodded again. "It's why your skin is darker than the rest of us. Her clan was known for their ebony skin and golden eyes. She was a dark beauty, Issedra. And Shurrun was bold enough to make her his own."

Questions tumbled inside of Auran. The balance of zazin was gone, replaced with pride and confusion. And a thirst to know more. But one question stood out amongst the rest. "Why are you telling me this now, after months of silence?"

"To prepare you for your final test," Harsan clicked, turning away and walking to the edge of the furthest ring. The conversation was apparently over.

Auran suppressed a growl of frustration as he took his place opposite his master, his sword hand tightening around his father's darkblade. Was Harsan even telling the truth? What did his parents and Iyeiden have to do with his training? What was he not telling him?

Harsan reached behind him and revealed a short, double-ended blade. _A strange sword_, thought Auran as he crouched slightly. _Schick. _Auran was momentarily stunned as the stumpy hand blades suddenly elongated. That… that was a spear. Spears were forbidden.

"You have one more lesson to learn before you return to the surface and face the Shan. You must learn to wield a spear." Harsan charged, slashing and stabbing in tight bursts of speed. For every small action he made, Auran had to compensate with twice the energy and skill to block. It was like battling two swords and a shield, the haft of the spear blocking his every strike. A twirling blow knocked Auran to the ground. The razored, quadri-tip of the spear bit into his throat, his master kneeling over him, his expression cold as steel.

"The superstition of the surface still infects you."

Auran gurgled in pain as Harsan pushed the tip of the spear head through the soft skin of his neck. Warm blood began to clog his throat.

"A spear is a tool. A weapon. It is not evil. It is not good. To survive your mission, you must learn its ways or perish." Harsan withdrew the spear and stood, allowing Auran to roll over and cough up the blood spilling into his lungs. He rasped as he rose, the act of breathing agonizing. "Why?"

"Because of some information we've managed to piece together. If what we've learned is true, this part of your training will be the most crucial. Unfortunately, we don't have much time left." He tossed Auran a second spear he'd strapped to his back. A small mechanism activated the weapon, the haft telescoping out until it was taller than he was. He remembered playing with sticks he'd found by the rivers as child, twirling and slashing the air much like Harsan had just done.

"No more talking. No more questions. Assume a defensive stance."

Auran crouched and turned his body sideways to make himself less of a target. His breath came in wheezing gasps. He cursed himself. Weeks of training and he'd hesitated like a novice.

* * *

**/- '|' ,\' |/-**

* * *

Natharrak leaned back in his chair, fingers laced, watching the young warrior brace for Harsan's assault. He nimbly dodged the experienced warriors thrust and went for a counterstrike across the back. Natharrak rumbled softly. A bold move. Harsan managed to block the awkward slash and kicked the young male in the stomach, sending him tumbling back. The young warrior quickly leapt up, fending off several slashes. The pair slammed into each other, the hafts of their spears gridlocked as each strove to knock the other back. It was now a contest of strength. Harsan was more experienced, but Auran had youth on his side.

A shadow appeared beside him. The Master tilted his head as it leaned down to deliver its message. He nodded and rose, red eyes still on the pair fighting below. Harsan had knocked Auran back, but the youth was light on his feet and nimbly dodged the older warrior's jabs. He turned away from the scene. There was no need to oversee the pair for now. Auran had far exceeded expectations. He'd taken to spear wielding like a xora to flight.

Raienthril greeted him as soon as he stepped into the chamber, fist to his chest and head bowed. "You summoned me?"

He rumbled. "Saa. I wanted you to hear this from me personally. It is of great importance."

The youth was hanging onto his every word. He was even trembling slightly. The biomachine attached to the base of his brain was sending out low doses of chemicals designed to stimulate the pleasure centers of the brain whenever he heard Natharrak's words. Hormones that induced obedience were also trickling through his system. Over the past few cycles, Raienthril had become almost totally obedient, his desire for revenge morphing into a desire to please.

"We have learned from one of our spies where the Shadow Stalker Auran Drakenatharr and his female are hiding. You will inform the Shan-ra of this immediately. They will have no choice but to reinstate you amongst their circle of advisors. And once they do, we will know what it is they are after."

The youth's eyes were bright with excitement. "Saa? Where is he? How did you find him?"

"You do not need to know how. Only that he resides as a Captain of the Guard under the Mistress in the Midnight Blossom."

Raienthril drew in a sharp hiss. "The Bloody Virgin."

The Master smiled darkly beneath his mask, as if privy to some private joke. "So they call her."

Raienthril knelt to the floor, head bowed. "I am forever in your debt for helping me regain my honor."

He approached the youth, laying his hand on his scalp. The young warrior's skin was hot to the touch. A truly rebellious-minded youth, if his warriors had to pump him this full of chemicals. "First complete the task I have given you. I will consider the debt between us paid once the Shan and his clan are wiped from the face of this world."

Raienthril rumbled in acceptance. "Saa. It will be done."

Once the young Red Claw had left, he summoned Harsan. He unclasped his mask as his old friend entered, gesturing for him to take a seat. He sat, straight backed and tall, his pale features grave, made more so when he tied his dreadlocks back, the long tendrils twisting and looping in the old style.

"Is he ready?"

Harsan nodded.

"Will he be able to complete the final trial?"

"Perhaps."

The Master growled. "It is crucial he complete this next step. Dig until you find his hatred. I want his heart burning in the fires of threitak when it is time."

"What would you have me do?"

"Tell him the truth. Tell him lies. Whatever you must to ensure that he is ours and will do what we need him to."

"He is one of our own. Are you suggesting…?"

The Master rumbled. "I am suggesting what is necessary. But do it subtly. His will is strong. If he suspects you, it may undo everything."

Harsan's red eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, leaving the Master alone. Natharrak's claws absentmindedly traced the glittering book beside him. His friend did not approve of the use of the biomachines on one of their own. But Auran was not one of their own.

Not yet.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I can haz review? :)


	24. Betrayal

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Djaidesh'erin – **djai-DESH-eh-rin – Midnight Swords

**Grall – **GRALL

**nadak – **nah-DAHK

**Najan'wi** – nah-JAHN-wee

**novaji –** no-VAH-jee

**o'nana – **OH-nah-nah – grandmother

**sjauk'la** – SJAUK-lah – derogatory curse word – akin to f**ker – literally means corpse screwer

**Tchiyo – **CHEE-yo

**Yura – **YUU-rah

**Zara **– ZAH-rah

* * *

**Betrayal**

* * *

_Blood pounded in Tyler's ears in time with her bruised feet as they thudded against the stone floor. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her lungs on fire. Run, she had to run. If she stopped, she died. A shriek ripped through the silence and her heart slammed into her ribs. The twisting tunnels grew steadily darker as she plunged headlong through the maze. Tyler ducked beneath low ceilings, tearing through the webs of slime. She had to make it, had to make it out alive. Darkness seeped from the walls the further she went. Thick tendrils of slime clung to her as she scrambled forward. Shrieks echoed and filled the wet, ribbed tunnels of the labyrinth. It was getting closer. She had to move, had to find the way out. The tunnel she'd chosen began to angle up, dim light filtering through above. She struggled towards it, clambering up the slippery slope and tearing through the thin layer of webbing. Tyler slithered through the narrow hole at the top, sticky tendrils flowing off her body as she slid down._

_A sickly yellow glow emanated from the stone ceiling above. Holes like the one she'd climbed through dotted the walls. Horror filled her as a sudden realization took hold. She'd stumbled into the center of the labyrinth. Fear gripped her as one of the shadows melted into a hideous humanoid, orange eyes blazing with hatred. The monster slowly moved towards her, clicking and chittering as it flexed its claws. Before she could even make a move the creature pounced and grabbed her by the throat. She struggled as its powerful arm slowly lifted her into the air._

_Ahandra lifted the struggling creature off the ground, examining it. Small, weak. Unworthy of being called prey. The thing began gurgling something, pointing behind her. What nonsense was this—_

_A blow smashed against her ribs, sending the pair flying. Tyler scrambled away, desperately searching for anything she could use as a weapon. A pile of sticks lay in the corner. She dug through it. She needed the sharpest, longest one she could find. Her fingernails clawed frantically into the heap, finally seizing on the largest stick, then froze. These weren't sticks. They were bones. Shrieks from above jolted her and she ripped the large bone free and turned to face the monsters._

_Ahandra watched the small creature grab one of the bones to use as a club. Brave, but futile. She pushed off the ground, narrowly avoiding being impaled. Her dark sword slashed at her prey, bright arcs of blood revealing their shadowy forms. They hissed in pain and back away. A cry of fear. Ahandra looked back. The small creature was trying to hold off several serpents, yelling and swinging wildly. She turned back to her prey. It was on its own._

_She lunged, ducking a tail strike and hacking off one of the demon's legs. Ahandra moved in on its companion. It only appeared as a shadow against the walls of the cavern, but she could hear the limp in its step. It was too slow. Pain suddenly ripped through her shoulder and she stumbled, her prey escaping up the wall. The weak alien was screaming in the corner. Ahandra looked back. A serpent ripped its tail blade from its shoulder. Agony swept through her body. She looked down. Blood seeped from her own shoulder. Impossible. She watched as the serpents ripped away the bone club. She could only howl in pain as they tore into the screaming creature, invisible claws raking across her skin. No! Nooo! _

"Noooo!" Ahandra jerked awake, heart pounding against her ribs. Shakily, she sat up, the terrifying images still fresh in her mind. Goosebumps prickled across her arms and crawled up her body. Painful cramps twisted her back as she crawled away from the pallet to the medicine cabinet, hoping the medicine Nadhiya had given her would help. Ahandra fumbled through the small jars. There were so many. Cramps, nausea, hormones, insomnia, heartburn. She reached for the slender vial containing pills for pain relief and hurriedly popped it open, swallowing several.

She glanced about the room. Pillows littered the floor. She must've thrown them during the nightmare. Ahandra sighed and rubbed her back as the burning cramps intensified. The nightmare. It never let her rest. Never gave her a moment's peace.

It had changed since Auran had left. It had grown stronger, persistent. She was lucky if she didn't dream at all when she slept. Some parts were still the same. She was always lost in a labyrinth, running from a monster, only to stumble into the center of the decayed maze. But whereas before it has always been a twisted yautja version of herself, this monster was different. This monster was… cold. The complete opposite of the hot rage that emanated from the yautja that fought her. Sometimes there was one. Sometimes there were dozens, bleeding from the walls as if they were a part of the labyrinth itself. And sometimes… sometimes it was inside her. Ahandra closed her eyes and rubbed her chest. Out of all the versions she dreamed, she feared that one the most.

Seinu shifted and she rubbed her swollen stomach in a vain attempt to comfort him. Ahandra wondered how much her dreams and rough sleep were affecting him.

The elder who had prepared her for the sha'oul long ago had mentioned she'd given her noksha, a powerful hallucinogen. Nadhiya had said its effects were only temporary and was not known for permanent damage. Ahandra had to disagree. The elder had done something to her and she needed to find the old one soon. She couldn't take much more of this.

Exhausted, but unable to sleep, Ahandra wandered until she found herself in the makeshift warehouse slash cave Ajenke's warriors had converted into a training area. Ajenke had named them the Djaidesh'erin, meaning Midnight Swords. Only a few were in today. E'kru was inspecting her magnipulse rifle. She was an excellent marksman, but the caves limited her to mostly focusing on being a tactician. She was calm and steady. Ahandra liked that about her. She settled herself beside her, sighing in relief. Her feet were killing her.

"You wish talk?" clicked E'kru in her clipped Najan'wi accent. The tall, avocado-skinned female was from one of the many large islands spread out across the vast eastern seas. E'kru set down her gun, the metal shining from her constant polishing.

"No, don't let me bother you." She paused a moment before asking, looking around. "Where's Ajenke?"

"With Mistress."

Ahandra sat up, worry furrowing her brow. "What? Why?"

"Not know. Hesra came. Ajenke left."

Ahandra rumbled at the troubling news. The Mistress hadn't spoken to Ajenke since she'd accepted the position as a shield bearer. She should be with her. E'kru suddenly leaned forward, frowning. "You look terrible. Ahandra sick?"

She shook her head. "No. Just cold."

E'kru pressed her hand against her forehead, her frown deepening. "Fever. Very hot."

Ahandra felt her forehead. E'kru was right; she was burning up.

"Little one not safe. Need see Nadhiya."

Ahandra rose unsteadily to her feet, fighting against a wave of exhaustion and nausea. Pain lanced through her back and she cried out as she collapsed to her knees. The only thing she could do was concentrate on her breathing until the pain subsided to a dull throbbing ache. E'kru was instantly by her side, helping her stand. Ahandra grimaced and leaned on E'kru for support. Another contraction was already beginning to build.

"Concentrate. Deep breaths."

It took everything she had to control her breathing, the pain beginning to well up again. The sudden realization that Auran wouldn't be with her for this hit her and she choked back an angry rumble. _Auran where are you?_

* * *

**'-, \- |'/**

* * *

His body felt stiff as he awoke, the moments before he'd fallen unconscious vague. Something about Harsan and an examination. Auran's eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up. Harsan was lounging against the wall, arms crossed.

"How do you feel?"

Auran growled. "What did you do to me?"

"I implanted a tracking device. The Master wants to keep a close eye on you in case you need help."

"Get it out of me," Auran growled.

"I will remove it when the time is right."

"Why doesn't he trust me? After weeks of training and learning and I am still treated like an _outsider!_" Auran hissed, pushing off the table. Harsan said nothing. Auran paced around the room. No matter what he did, it didn't matter. He was a tool, an expendable asset, born to be used and disposed of. "That's what I am, isn't it?" he asked. "I'm a means to an end. I will never be one of you, will I?"

"Iyan."

"Then what am I!?"

"You are sharin'atharr. You passed your training with breathtaking speed. You adapted to the darkness and silence as if you'd been born in N'tharralis' catacombs. No one doubts your bloodline or your resolve."

Auran grunted in disbelief, unwilling to look Harsan in the eye.

"You are the youngest of us to have survived. We don't want to lose you… You're our future."

Auran closed his eyes, trying to wrest control of his temper. His teacher approached him, gently placing his hand on his shoulder. "Walk with me." He followed in silence, until his pale mentor stopped before a circular door. A monstrous skull protruded from the center, the symbol of death carved into its bleached forehead. "You know the story of how N'tharralis was destroyed. What you do not know, is that after the war, the few of us that were left were hunted down, one by one, like diseased rats. We were scattered to the four winds, lost and without purpose. Natharrak found us and gathered us together. Since then, we have exacted revenge against the masterminds behind our destruction and false friends who turned their backs on us in our most desperate hour. A few still remain that must face judgment." Harsan's eyes gleamed in the torchlight. The copper scent of his anger filled the air, and Auran could feel the burning of threitak respond within him. Harsan reached into the fanged maw, twisting a hidden knob.

"Auran," his teacher growled as the door lifted up. "This is your final test."

Auran drew his sword and stepped forward. Flames flared to life around the cavern's edges. The steady heat of a figure's life flame stood at the other end of the room.

"What did he do?"

"He betrayed us, pretending to be an ally. And…" Harsan paused. "He's the one who killed your parents."

Auran froze, his lungs locked, unable to breathe. Then, like magma long trapped in the bowels of his body, the heat of rage engulfed his body and mind, his vision bleeding red and fire. Roaring, he charged the figure.

At the last second, the figure drew his sword, an unearthly shriek filling the heated air as he whirled, their swords clashing in a spray of golden sparks. Time slowed as Auran locked eyes with his parents' killer, anger morphing into horror.

"Have you forgotten what I taught you? Never let your guard down," growled Iyeiden. Auran stumbled as his opponent shoved him back, a crushing kick to the chest sending him sliding across the cavern floor. Auran quickly got back up, a maelstrom of rage and confusion swirling inside him. His chest ached as the fires of pain and betrayal burned away the lies he'd believed his entire life. His vision blurred, rage swallowing him whole.

* * *

**-', \' -|;**

* * *

Ajenke took a deep breath and stepped through the beaded doorway, the scents of jasmine and spice greeting her as she made her way to the center of the council chamber, bowing her head and waiting until the presiding matrons decided to acknowledge her presence. When Hesra sat and greetings were exchanged, Grall, the oldest of the matrons, opened the session.

"Greetings, sisters. We are summoned today to review this flower's performance and the appeal that she be relieved of her duties as a Gilded Sheath and reinstated as a matron. Under normal circumstances this would be up to Orune, Matron of the Gilded Sheaths. However, the Mistress has requested a review of this particular case, since it is somewhat unusual. We will begin with the flower herself. Each matron will then give judgment as to why or why not she should be reinstated, with the Mistress having the final word. Are there any questions?"

When none spoke, Grall called upon her first. Ajenke lifted her head, her face a mask of calm that hid her wildly beating heart. "Ajenke. You agreed to exchange your privilege as a matron for the responsibilities of sheath bearer under the condition that select flowers be allowed to participate in martial training. Why?"

Her heart hammered against her ribcage. She'd rehearsed this moment a thousand times. "Because I believe females should be able to determine their own destiny," she replied. Murmurs rippled behind her from the younger matrons. "We should not have to depend on males for protection or purpose."

"Could this not have endangered the flowers? Or the Midnight Blossom's reputation?"

"So far nothing has happened to the flowers I'm responsible for and the rumors that females were wearing armor and swords only seemed to attract clientele, rather than dissuade them, as some argued."

"And the shield warriors? You were amongst them for over a cycle. What did you hear while you served them?" asked the aged matron.

"At first, some were worried about losing their position. Some disliked the idea of females carrying weapons. Others could care less either way, as long as they get paid."

"What is your ultimate intention, should you be reinstated as a matron?"

Ajenke lifted her chin and clenched her fists. This is where she could lose her appeal. She raised her voice. "To integrate the Midnight Swords as a fully functional fourth unit to protect the Midnight Blossom. After a few years, they would take the lead role in protecting and ensuring order. The Midnight Blossom will be a symbol for females that there is more to life than wasting away in a pleasure den. Females here already learn skills beyond that of dancing and pleasuring. Why not fighting? Why should we follow the ways of the surface? Down here we are free to do and be as we choose."

Silence met her final words. Perhaps she'd said too much. She could hardly care at the moment. For a brief instant, she could see the Midnight Blossom, not just several pleasure districts connected by decaying tunnels, but a living city, free from the rules dictated by the surface and the underworld, like the legendary city of N'tharralis. Females free to choose. Wasn't that what everyone wanted? To be free?

Grall, white locks swaying in the torchlight, turned to the matrons seated beside her. "You have heard this young female's passionate plea. Orune, Matron of the Gilded Sheaths, what say you?"

Ajenke glared at the matron. She enjoyed her position as head of the sheath bearers, believing it superior to serving the rabble that spilled through their doors nightly. She'd made Ajenke's life miserable from the first moment she'd arrived. There was no chance Orune would ever agree to let her go.

"My sisters, I have observed this flower first hand. I did my best to help her transition into the life of a sheath bearer." Orune shook her head. "But try as I might, she battled my every request. Her performances with the guards she was assigned was poor. She is willful, arrogant and does not respect the shield warriors who protect our way of life."

Rage boiled beneath Ajenke's skin. How dare she lie! She hadn't enjoyed her assignments, but at least she did them!

"Furthermore, she believed herself superior to the rest of the sheath bearers and refused to associate with them, often running off 'to train'. It wasn't until Captain Rrourk claimed her that she lost some of that stubbornness." Fear jolted through her and Ajenke glanced at her mother. She thought she saw a slight stiffening of her mother's mandibles. She couldn't be sure.

"Ak'nandei, sister. Matron Naka," Grall clicked, turning to the Matron of Discipline. Naka's stern gaze fell on her. Ajenke'd had the unfortunate pleasure of enduring her discipline during her childhood. The matron's temper was as cool as her silver gray skin and her sense of judgment as harsh as the jagged scar that cut across the right side of her face, blinding her. Her remaining golden iris swept the room like mechanized sentry and Ajenke felt naked under its scrutiny. Had she been born male, the matron would have made a formidable arbiter.

"The members of the Djaidesh'erin have not been involved in any serious incidences," Naka stated. "No punitive action has been taken against the flower during her time as a sheath bearer. Based on their discipline and cooperation, I see no reason to suspend their training or for the flower to continue her present duties." Straight to the point, Naka.

Ajenke could tell her impassive and logical assessment held some weight with the other matrons. But she was not the most popular figure within the matriarchy and her lack of passion was often viewed with disdain. She looked up to her mother. She looked bored. That was a lie, of course. She was absorbing every word spoken, reviewing the slightest gestures. Her mother had a natural ability to read people. And she used it to her advantage.

Grall next gave the floor to Hesra. The Matron of Order straightened her crisp, black robes and folded her hands on the table in front of her. "I too cannot find fault with the flower's adherence to the rules of the Gilded Sheaths." Ajenke's eyes widened in surprise. Hesra was taking her side? "However, her attitude and lack of respect for her superior is troubling. If the purpose of sending her to serve as a sheath bearer was to teach her humility, it does not seem to have worked as well as hoped." Ajenke growled softly. She should've known better than to expect Hesra to support her. "Ajenke's plan to integrate the Midnight Swords as part of the Midnight Blossom's defense forces is a breach of authority. Only the Mistress can create or dissolve shield units. There has also been a lack of oversight in the training. I believe the captains and myself should assess the flowers capabilities before giving them any real responsibility." Hesra bowed towards the elder matron. "I have nothing further to say." Grall returned the gesture. "Very well." She turned her weathered gaze on Ajenke, faded copper eyes assessing her as if she were considering a piece of smelted iron, hot from the forge. The Matron of Tradition cleared her throat and all gave her their attention.

"I have seen the destruction that great change brings when the fires of outrage and hate are stoked. The past is uprooted and destroyed like a mighty tree is felled by a great wind. To suggest that females should wield weapons beside male warriors is almost unthinkable. It would be a breach of propriety and honor," she growled. Ajenke's felt as if her breath had been sucked from her lungs. Her mother might as well pass judgment now and get it over with. She kept her chin up though. She would not show weakness.

"However, tradition should never be used to restrain the future for fear of change." Ajenke clenched her fists, desperate hope flickering inside of her. "Change is inevitable. A blossom cannot remain hidden forever within the comfort and safety of the warm soil. It must be allowed to grow, to taste the sun and feel the wind against its petals. It is a great, but necessary risk. Ajenke," the elder chittered softly. "I was there that fateful day you were born. Fires raged throughout the tunnels, bodies piled against the gutters clogged with blood and debris. It was a time of great suffering and fear. Amidst the chaos, as I swaddled you in dirty rags, your cries echoed out, strong and fearless. I knew then that you would be a child of destiny. Like your mother, you are not content with your place in life. It is in your nature to strive and struggle. I hope the Mistress sees in you what I saw that day." She looked over to the Mistress and bowed her head.

The other matrons looked at each other stunned silence. No one had expected this of Grall. The Mistress broke the shocked moment. "Well, Grall. I never expected the protector of our traditions to support such a proposal. What caused you to change your mind?"

Grall smiled sadly. "I fear I may have grown soft in my old age."

The Mistress clicked as she considered her words, then rose. "I will now pass judgment." The entire room held their collective breath. "The Midnight Swords…" she paused for dramatic effect, "will be instituted as a fourth unit." Shocked gasps and excited clicks from the younger acolytes filled the room. "The flower is relieved of her sheath bearer duties. And she is also relieved of her leadership of the Midnight Swords."

Ajenke's elation quickly morphed into confusion. What?

"I name my daughter Ajenke heir to the Midnight Blossom and its entire territory."

She could only stand there is shock, the younger matrons crowding around her, excitedly congratulating her. Orune looked like she was choking on a bone, her face turning a bright purple, before she stalked out of the council room. Naka and Hesra remained as impassive as ever, surveying the scene with grim acceptance. Grall was looking straight at her, a worried look deepening her wrinkled features.

"Everyone, leave us," the Mistress clicked. The chittering females scurried away while the elders swept from the room.

She could barely stand. Her legs felt numb. What had just happened? She'd won, hadn't she? So why wasn't she happy?

"Ajenke."

She looked up. "Saa, Mistress— I mean, mother?"

The Mistress, mother, caressed her cheek, a strange look of fondness softening the normally hard edges of her face. "I'm so proud of you."

A strange pain pricked at the corner of her eyes and Ajenke stepped away, rubbing them.

"What's wrong?"

"I-I… I don't understand. Why are you naming me the heir?"

"You past the test. Well, I should say three tests. And I knew you would. I had always meant for you to follow after me."

"Tests?"

"Saa. Through your training you learned to harness and channel your anger. By training others and defending your decision, you discovered the power of leadership and the strength and sacrifice it takes to make hard decisions. Finally, you learned the nature of suffering." She pulled her into her arms. Pain swelled inside Ajenke's head. The stiff, awkward hug was all she'd ever wanted. She hesitantly returned the gesture, not sure what to make of her mother's sudden change of heart.

"And most importantly, you understand why males are not to be trusted," her mother whispered. Ajenke's pain swallowed her happiness, morphing into a smoldering rage. She pushed away. How could she have not seen this coming? Rrourk. They couldn't be together. Not the way they were now. And she'd lost the Midnight Swords. She hadn't won. She'd lost everything. "Was that what this was all about?" she growled. "So I hate males as much as you? So I could feel your pain? Couldn't you have just _told me_ about these things?"

"Ajenke, the matrons would never have accepted you as Mistress unless you knew what it meant to sacrifice your body."

"So you threw me into the fire?!" Ajenke snapped.

"Watch your tongue," hissed the Mistress, a dark light entering her eyes.

"Or you'll what, send me to the Honeycomb until I learn my lesson? Or maybe force me to wear chains and a gag in the Black Room? You don't care what I want. You've _never _cared about what I want!"

"I want what is best for my daughter."

"You forced me to choose between protecting my dream or watching you destroy everything I cared about in a single breath. What kind of mother does that!?"

"Ajenk—"

"Yan! You think now that you've 'saved' me that everything you've done to disappoint and hurt me is forgotten?"

"You are my daughter! I have always cared about you!" The Mistress shouted.

"Liar! You've never cared about me. Ahandra and Rrourk are the only people who've ever cared about me!" she shouted back. The Mistress went rigid, as if she'd been slapped.

"What did you say?" she hissed, her jade eyes filled with horror.

Ajenke fumbled for words, realizing her mistake too late. "I said Ahandra and my sword sisters care about me."

"Oh yan. Oh yan, oh yan, oh yan, oh Goddess yan." The Mistress started pacing to and fro, as if lost. She spun around and grabbed Ajenke by the shoulders, shaking her, sharp claws digging into her skin. "Tell me it isn't true! Tell me you don't belong to him!"

"Ow! Stop it! You're hurting me!"

The Mistress shouted for Sef as Ajenke ripped free of her mother's grasp. She needed to get out. She needed to warn Rrourk. She'd kill him. A pale wall of muscle stopped her, Sef's icy grip locking her in place. "Let go of me, captain!"

"Sef," the Mistress hissed. She looked back, fear racing up her spine at the rage and bloodlust burning from with the Mistress' eyes, her body twisted and disheveled, as if her anger were trying rip free of her bones and manifest. She tapped the computerized vambrace strapped to her arm. Sef's pupils dilated, his grip on her wrists tightening. "Take her to the holding room and tie her up. Then return to me," she spat.

Ajenke kicked and shouted as Sef dragged her to one of the holding cells near the council chamber. "Sef! She's going after Rrourk! You owe him your life. Sef!"

He threw her to the ground, tying her hands behind her with a thin wire that cut into her flesh and then did the same to her ankles. He slammed the door shut, the lock snapping into place with a finality that she couldn't accept. She struggled against her bonds, shouting for help until her throat was hoarse and blood caked her palms and feet. Despair finally sapped her of strength and she lay still. She'd lost everything. And now her mother would never let her go.

* * *

**\|/ -;'**

* * *

Ahandra groaned as intense pain lanced through her thighs. She gripped the blanket, doing her best to remember to breathe. Yura, a young healer and midwife-in-training, patted her forehead with a damp cloth while Nadhiya moved holographic sensors over her abdomen, monitoring her and the baby's vital signs. "You're doing very well. He should be here soon."

"What's soon?" Ahandra winced as the contraction reached up into her back and began twisting the muscles like a towel being wrung out.

"Several hours."

She groaned and closed her eyes.

"I know you want the pain medicine, but you're far too along. Just be patient."

Ahandra started to growl an angry retort when a low rumble shook the walls causing dust to fall from the ceiling in wispy streams. "What was that?" chirped Yura.

Warning klaxons suddenly began screaming overhead, red emergency lights pulsing every few seconds. Ahandra tried to sit up, but Nadhiya pushed her back down. "You stay down! Yura, watch the monitors. I'll be right back."

She could hear Nadhiya shouting into her communicator bracelet out in the hall. "Hesra, what is going on?!... Hesra?!… Tchek?!..."

A long silence followed. When she returned, worry creased the corners of her eyes. "Yura, stay here and take care of them. You're in charge until I get back."

The stone walls trembled again for several seconds as more tremors rumbled through. "Do you think it's an earthquake?" murmured Yura.

Nadhiya grabbed a couple medi-packs and clipped on her sensor mask. She made to head out the door when Rrek'ne flew into her. The healer could barely catch her breath, pulling at Nadhiya and pointing out into the hallway. "Nadhiya… thank the Goddess. You need to come with me now. Grab as many medi-packs as you can." Several other females rushed in behind her, grabbing their packs and masks. Rrek'ne tore into the supply cabinets, looping several packs around her waist, her words spilling over each other. "There was an attack. I heard some say they wore white swords on their breast plates. Others said they were mercenaries. They set off bombs at the main entrance on the first level. It's complete chaos."

"The Thousand Blades." Nadhiya spat the name like a curse. Yura squeezed Ahandra's hand. She sat up, holding back a moan, her voice tight. "Nadhiya, take me with you. They came for me."

The trio glanced between each other, not sure what to say.

"What?" chirped Yura.

"She's delusional," Rrek'ne growled.

"Yura, hold her down," barked Nadhiya, unclipping a tube from her belt.

"I'm not crazy!" Ahandra yelled, fighting off Yura. "It's my fault! They want me. I'm Auran Drakenatharr's bondmate. Nadhiya!" Her struggles ceased as the mild sedative the healer had stabbed into her arm quickly coursed through her body.

"Keep her calm, Yura. Tie her down with bandages, sit on her for all I care if she tries to do anything like that again. She does not need to be walking." Nadhiya barked orders to the rest of her healers and then led them out, heading towards the distant sounds of screaming and plasma blasts.

* * *

**-/, -' \|**

* * *

Auran leaned against the stone pillar for support, blood coursing down his thigh and shoulder. The world spun around him. It was all a lie. Every single thing Iyeiden had told him was a lie. He pushed off the pillar, swaying as blood rushed to his head and clouded his vision. But he didn't need his sight to know that his opponent was striking from the left. He parried several quick slashes with ease, the sound of Iyeiden's singing sword making it all too easy to know where and when he would strike next. He could smell the blood from the several deep gashes littering his chest and arms. A shriek from behind. Auran whirled, his sight clearing.

Metal ripped through his ribs and he cried out in pain and surprise. He fended off a flurry of powerful blows, landing a solid spinning kick across Iyeiden's jaw. Auran collapsed to his knee, hand pressed against his ribs to staunch some of the blood flow. Iyeiden quickly recovered from the hit and began circling. "That's a trick I never taught you."

Auran cursed himself. Iyeiden had learned how to throw sound. A warrior would hear a sound from behind, turn and the Singing Blade would finish them off from behind. The Last Echo. He was unbelievably lucky to have survived, ignoring the voice in the back of his head saying it was impossible. Iyeiden would never miss such an opportune opening.

"I won't fall for it a second time," Auran hissed.

"I know." Iyeiden lunged. Auran spun, foot knocking aside the wailing blade. Iyeiden twirled, slashing for Auran's injured arm. He dodged, fending off another attack and slashed at Iyeiden's thigh. A spray of blood flashed in the darkness. Iyeiden cried out and Auran lunged. He managed to block his attack, swords locked together as each struggle to throw the other off balance. Metal trembled, their breaths came in short gasps as each put all of his strength against the other.

"I was just a trophy, wasn't I? A prize to show off to the world," Auran growled.

"You were a mistake," Iyeiden hissed. "One I intend to finally rectify."

Auran struggled to keep his footing as Iyeiden slowly pushed him back towards the hungry flames, the heat of their tongues licking at the back of his calves. "What about the plan? I thought Shaidra needed me alive."

Iyeiden smiled darkly. "Do you know how many other males there are in this city dying to regain their honor? Did you actually think you were irreplaceable?"

Auran roared, anger fueling his strength and he shoved Iyeiden back. Golden sparks flew as the warriors clashed. The fires surrounding the underground cavern hissed as bright arcs of blood spattered into them and stained the ground. The Fire Singer wailed, its cries echoing over the hot air. Auran nimbly dodged and twisted away from its reach. Iyeiden gave chase and he quickly scrambled up a pillar, kicking off at the last second and flying overhead. He tucked and rolled away, the screaming blade scraping the stone where he'd landed a moment before. Auran rose to a defensive stance.

Iyeiden's breathing had become ragged. He paused wipe away the blood that was filling his eye.

A strange buzzing filled the inside of Auran's mind. Anger, rage, hate. It gave him strength. But it was also making him sloppy. He needed to focus. Auran blinked and shook his head. If he could knock the elder out, he could get the answers he needed. Pain lanced through the back of his head and white lights danced across his vision. He swayed, his thoughts lost. Something about Iyeiden. He stared at the elder. Burning rage suddenly coursed through his veins. He could barely hear his opponent over the droning that filled his ears.

"After I kill you, we'll have to give that kalai to someone else," Iyeiden grumbled, leaning on his good leg. "Annoying really. After all the work I did to keep you in line."

Rage burned through Auran and he charged. Roaring he swatted aside the howling weapon, the silver blade flying off into the darkness. He grabbed a fistful of Iyeiden tattered shirt and readied his darkblade for the killing blow.

Fire coursed through his blood now. His face contorted in rage. The arm that held his sword trembled, every fiber of his being screaming at him to avenge his parents' deaths. He choked out the question, his throat tight with anger. "_Why?_ Why did you save me? Why act like a father to me?"

For a moment, Auran thought he saw something flicker across Iyeiden's features. Then the elder's face twisted into a snarl. "Get it over with, you coward."

Veins bulged along Auran's arm. The sound of a thousand buzzing insect wings droned out every other sound. Red rage filled his vision and he lost himself.

He blinked as the world returned in a blurry haze. His bones ached with exhaustion, his muscles trembled. Something warm and wet dripped over his hand that clutched at a shirt. Auran blinked again. A bright stream of blood oozed from Iyeiden's gasping mouth. He looked down. His sword was shoved all the way through his chest up to the hilt, a large pool of blood growing on the ground. He let go and Iyeiden fell back, the sound of his flesh ripping and sucking as his blade left his body filling Auran's insides with bile. He stumbled to his knees, watching the uneven rise and fall of the elder's chest, his rasping breath a knife in his heart.

He sat there until his life flame faded.

So this is what revenge felt like. The thing he'd always dreamed of. He wanted to howl and throw up at the same time. Auran stared at the hole he'd ripped through Iyeiden. It felt like the same hole had been ripped in him as well. A gaping void that he knew could never, ever be filled. "You bastard… why in the eight hells did you do it?" he whispered.

Auran stood to his feet and walked over to where Ferraiya had fallen. It whimpered as he picked it up, softly crying as he carried it out, a final melody for its fallen master.

Natharrak smiled with satisfaction as the hologram table powered off. "Well done Harsan. You trained him well." Harsan said nothing, his face a mask of grimness. He left without a word, leaving Natharrak and his acolytes to their dark rituals, the eating of their enemies' flesh and drinking their blood having suddenly lost its appeal.

* * *

**-|' ,-' \/**

* * *

Someone tapped on the door to Ajenke's prison. Hope flared inside of her and she called out, desperately pleading with the Goddess that it wasn't her mother. "Help! Please help! I can't get out!"

The door unlatched and slowly opened, the aged figure of Grall huffing and grunting as she pushed it open. "Grall!"

"Child, what have you done now?" the matron wheezed.

"How did you find me?"

"I was waiting in the hall to speak with the Mistress and I heard everything." She knelt beside her and drew a silver blade. It cut through the grappling wire like it was made of cloth. Ajenke groaned. She could feel blood trickling from her barely healed cuts. "Where did you get that?" she asked, pointing at the knife.

"It's a long, boring story from when I was about your age. But we don't have time for reminiscing." She continued to speak as she tore her robes into thin strips and tied them around Ajenke's wrists and ankles. "The Midnight Blossom is under attack. And someone switched off all the security protocols. That's how I was able to get you out."

"But that would mean…"

"One of the matrons or captains may have betrayed us," Grall finished for her.

"Who would do such a thing?"

Grall stared at her, grimfaced. "I don't know."

"Ak'nandei, o'nana," chirped Ajenke as she hugged the elder.

"Get as many as you can out of here," rumbled Grall. She tapped her bracelet, pulling a glowing golden access sphere and passing in on to her. Next she drew up a map of Midnight Blossom, zooming in on the Honeycomb, a golden trail leading away and into the Tunnels. "Go here and press the key I gave you against the stone. The trail will lead you to an abandon station. Go to the surface and hide in the temple forests."

"What about you? Elder, I cannot leave you."

"My time is drawing near. Before I pass through the veil I wanted know that it has not all been for nothing. That is why I supported you today."

"But—"

"Go!" growled the matron, pushing her towards the door. "And take this blade. I have no use for such a thing."

Ajenke bowed her head and took the dagger. She sprinted through the council chamber and winding hallways, ignoring the lump in her throat and the burning pain clawing at her ankles. Flowers panicked in the narrow streets. Others barricaded themselves inside their homes. No one knew where to go. She burst into her dwelling, stomach sinking as soon as she saw the bed. Ahandra wasn't here. Chjit. No time to look for her. Hopefully she was at the training house. She raced to the abandoned storage area, hoping some her warriors were there. None greeted her when she arrived. It meant they were fighting. Pride swelled through her. She grabbed her gear that she'd left behind, quickly strapping on her short sword and magma pistol with practiced ease. Once secured, Ajenke headed to the lowest level, the chambers here reserved for rival gang members, spies and criminals. She grunted as she shoved open the metal gateway and slipped inside. Except for the pulsing red alarm lights, the prison hold was pitch black. She called out, praying he was here. "Rrourk?"

"Ajenke?" a voice rasped in the darkness.

She quickly darted over to the cell and wrenched open the door, its hinges groaning in protest. "Rrourk! Are you alright? Can you stand?"

He moaned, holding his head as he sat up. "Aye. But my head feels like it was crushed by a boulder. And this damned alarm ain't helpin' neither. What in the Nameless God is goin—"

Ajenke didn't let him finish, grabbing his mandibles with hers and wrapping her arms around his neck. Rrourk fell back, gasping when she finally let him go. "Darnit, ya crazy female! My head is killin' me."

"Yaksallah. Now get up. We're under attack and I need to find my sisters."

Rrourk's head snapped up. "We're _what?!_" He scrambled to his feet, cursing. Ajenke led him out of the prison. They sprinted, nearly running over an injured female as they drew closer to the central level. Ajenke skidded to a halt. Howls and the clash of metal echoed close by and Rrourk growled with impatience.

"Tchiyo!" The female looked around like she was lost. Blood streamed down what was left of her right arm, the left side of her armor scored and pitted, her caramel flesh ripped and fused from a plasma round that punched through her ribs. Ajenke grabbed her gently by the shoulders, choking back her horror at the wounds. "Tchiyo, can you tell us what's going on? Where are the Midnight Swords?"

"I lost my pistol. I'm sorry. I'll get another," she said before collapsing into her arms. Ajenke set her down, anger filling her at how helpless she was. Rrourk pulled her away from the dazed female warrior.

"Ajenke, ya need to rally with E'kru. Get as many flowers as you can and get outta here."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Don't be da'kande. They won't let a female warrior live. 'Specially you if they find out yer the Mistress' daughter. And if they don't kill ya, then they'll use ya to get to her."

Ajenke growled. She hated when he was right. Grall's plan suddenly surfaced in her mind. "Fine. We'll hide in the temple forests in the north." She grabbed him as he turned to leave. "You better not die, understand? That's an order, captain."

He said nothing. Instead he bent down and quickly brushed his mandibles against hers before running off to join his warriors, his great axe swinging by his side. Ajenke suppressed the urge to run after him and turned to Tchiyo. "Come on Tchiyo… Tchiyo?" The female's head lay limp, eyes staring into space. Her life flame was steadily fading, her skin already cool to the touch as Ajenke closed her sightless eyes with a soft brush of her fingertips. Anger choked her. Those Thousand Blade monsters!

Her bracelet suddenly shrieked, energy lines flashing. Someone had reestablish the communication network.

"—enke! Can you hear? Ajenke!"

"E'kru, this is Ajenke! Where are you?"

"Defending Honeycomb! Not much time!" She shouted, the shriek of plasma blasts and shurikens ripping into the stone walls around her.

"I'm coming to you! Gather all the Midnight Swords and flowers you can! Head to the lowest level! I know a way out." She could barely hear E'kru's acknowledgement as an explosion roared nearby. Her gut clenched with fear as the tremors from the explosion rumbled the floor beneath her feet. _Please stay alive. _Ajenke whispered a farewell to her fallen sister and raced off to join her sisters. She wasn't losing anyone else.

* * *

**';- \- '**

* * *

People screamed and shouted as they packed the healing center. Aseinan and dancers, bloodied and bruised, littered the floor. Others curled up in the corners, shell-shocked. Ahandra moaned, the pain unrelenting. She'd given up arguing with Yura a while ago. She didn't need someone yelling at her when she had over a dozen people pleading with her to help them.

Shouts suddenly erupted from the main room followed by a loud crash. The shouts turned to soft whimpers. Sweat dripped down her face as Ahandra watched the doorway, her labored breathing the only sound in the room. Was it them? Had they finally found her?

To her confusion, Sef stepped through the doorway. "Sef? What's going on?"

He said nothing. She cried out as he wrapped a blanket around her, lifted her into his arms and began carrying her out. "Sef! What the hell do you think you're doing!? Put me down!" She called out for help. None of the flowers moved. Ahandra managed to glimpse Yura's unconscious form lying on the ground. Oh God, did he kill her?

She railed against the silent warrior until the pain of her contractions suffocated her outrage. She moaned, the pressure all of her body weight sinking into her thighs. They headed up a flight of steep stairs, but he carried as if she were nothing, nearly running. A strange intensity had entered him.

The muffled sounds of howling and swords clashing beat through the ceiling as they entered the second level beneath the main entrance. Aseinan and guards used it when they wanted to get somewhere quickly or take a short break to light up some ganja. Ahandra could hear a fierce gun battle going on near the Honeycomb. In the center stood an unfamiliar warrior with a white sword embossed on his breastplate. A female, disheveled and bruised, sat bound and gagged at his feet. Ahandra groaned as Sef set her against the wall. She looked over at the other prisoner, shock running through her. The Mistress.

The Thousand Blades warrior stood over Ahandra, assessing her. He nodded and tapped his wrist computer. Sef grabbed his arm, gesturing angrily about some sort of promise. The warrior brushed his hand away. "I did keep my promise. I cannot remove the device, but the implant I inserted into your neck will block the signal. You are free to leave."

"You traitorous rat!" The Mistress spat. She'd managed to push down her gag. "I saved your miserable life from that slaughter pit. I own you! You will do as I say!"

Rage flamed within Sef's eyes. He slammed the Mistress onto the ground, choking her as he ripped a short knife from his belt. Ahandra couldn't tear her eyes away as he grabbed her jaw, squeezing her cheeks to keep her mandibles from clamping over her mouth. "Sef, stop!" she yelled. He dug the blade into the Mistress' mouth. Screams gurgled from her throat a she struggled to wriggle free. Sef twisted and stabbed the blade into her throat, digging out shreds of red flesh. Ahandra looked away, gagging and coughing, wishing she could shut out the horrible sounds of agony and flesh ripping free. The Thousand Blades warrior finally intervened, dragging him off of her. "Enough. You'll kill her. The Shan'rai want her alive." Ahandra finally willed herself to look at the Mistress. She lay facing her, her mandibles covered in webs of blood. She mewled in pain, her eyes beginning to roll into the back her head as she began to pass out. Sef hissed and shoved the warrior away. She wondered what the Mistress had done to him to make him hate her so much.

"You looked surprise," the warrior clicked suddenly, staring dispassionately down at the Mistress' still form. "Do you know why he betrayed her?" Sef glared at him from behind.

"Because she cut out his tongue?" Ahandra answered, wincing as her contractions picked up steam. As soon as one ended another began. Chjit, was it time? The warrior grunted. "She managed to find a rare piece of technology created by the Shadow Stalkers. It looks like a small, black snake. You insert it into someone and it wriggles its way into the base of their brain, where it attaches itself. Through specific signals only the controller knows he," the warrior nodded towards the Mistress, "or she, can make that person do whatever they want. And the longer it remains inside of them, the harder it is for them to fight against its effects. Eventually, they become a mindless drone, as obedient as a holosphere or factory mech."

Revulsion and sympathy flickered through her. Sef had been a slave. No, worse. His very will had been warped. She couldn't imagine what that felt like. But that didn't excuse him from destroying so many other lives.

The sound of boots pounding the earth sounded nearby and more Thousand Blade warriors poured into the room. Fear snaked through her as soon as she recognized the figure leading them. Dralus. "Tcharr," he growled. "Is that them?"

Tcharr nodded. He looked like he could care less about the entire situation. Ahandra didn't like the sharp, analyzing looks he kept giving her. Dralus crouched over the Mistress, cradling her bloodied jaw in his hand. "We finally got you." He rumbled in satisfaction as he stood, finally noticing Sef skulking in the background. "Who's this? Is he the one?" he barked at Tcharr.

"Saa. I've given him his reward."

"Good," he grunted, turning his stern gaze to her. Her mandibles pulled back in threatening snarl to make him think twice about doing anything stupid. He growled menacingly, then barked at the warriors nearest him. "Take these two to the ship! The rest of you, follow me. We're going to break their line of defense in the northern sector."

"Drakarrik," Tcharr called as the rest of the warriors filed after the shield captain. The warrior turned, his mask decorated with gaping fangs. Several other warriors stayed behind as well. "Stay close to him. It would be a shame if something were to happen to the Captain." The warrior nodded slowly and he and his entourage jogged after the rest of the Thousand Blades that were moving in on the Honeycomb. Ahandra was trying to figure out what the strange exchange meant as Tcharr reached down to pick her up.

The world was ripped away in a howling gale as soon as his fingers brushed her skin. Goosebumps prickled over her body, her breath frosting. The room was freezing. Small bodies lay dissected on tables, machines probing their organs. Contorted children's faces gaped at her in frozen horror. Spikes protruded from their warped, black flesh. A hairless child with a swollen skull hung from a hook with four arms and a bony tail. Screams echoed in her mind. Children in glass tubes suddenly surrounded her, beating against the walls, crying out for their mothers. Rows of ragged and thin slaves measured and mixed chemicals, the poisonous fumes eating away at their lungs. Pathetic. The night was hot and clear. He glanced through his scope. Furs covered the floors. His target walked by the window. Deep breath. His brains spattered against the wall. Perfect kill. The Master was angry with him. He'd let Auran slip through his surveillance again. Whips lashed his back. Pain would be his teacher. He would not fail again.

Tcharr cried out, stumbling back, clutching his hand as if it were on fire. The visions ripped away and Ahandra felt lightheaded. She moaned as the urge to push suddenly filled her. "You!" Tcharr hissed, pointing at two warriors. "Get a sled and carry her!"

Their eyes met as she was placed on the sled. His once cold eyes were alight with anger. And fear.

She didn't have time to sort through what had just happened. As plasma shots and roars filled the hot air, she cried out, gripping the stretcher bars as she fought the urge to squeeze, the bumpy ride sending spikes of pain along her back. Ahandra turned her head towards the Red Room entrance and managed to glimpse black garbed shield warriors of the Midnight Blossom as they fought off the well disciplined silver plated warriors of the Shan, Rrourk roaring and smashing through their lines like a giant wrecking ball.

Her pallet bearers quickly maneuvered around dead bodies, their masks able to pierce the darkness that had flooded the wide chamber, the crystal dome above littered with cracks and burn scars. The spray of plasma beams flashed through the darkness, briefly revealing shattered figures still writhing in morbid ecstasy along the wall. The fetid stench of burnt flesh cloyed at her throat and she closed her eyes before she was tempted to look and recognize any of the hacked off heads or twisted bodies that lay sprawled across the bloody floor.

They loaded her onto small transport. Seconds dragged by, even as the craft sped through the earth. She cursed a foolish male who'd told her to be quiet into a shocked silence. She bet he'd never heard a female curse where he came from. As they moved her and the Mistress onto a sleek craft waiting just outside, she finally couldn't wait any longer. "I need help! Aaaagh! Now!" The male she'd screamed at earlier was volunteered and shoved forward. He looked pale as he knelt, holding his hands out awkwardly in front of him as if she were going to explode. "Daka! Reach down and pull on his head!" she screamed at him. She pushed, pain and relief washing over her. She was exhausted. She pushed again, shouting in pain. The male squeaked. "There's a head! Chjit, there's a head!" He glanced between her and the baby several times. All she could do was groan. This was it. Sweat poured from her, soaking the blanket wrapped around her torso. Just one more. She roared and male fell back with a cry.

Her pain dissolved in an instant and she collapsed on the stretcher, her burning muscles melting inside of her. Tiny cries kept her from almost giving into sleep. She grunted and grabbed a bar, pulling herself upright and taking her wet, squalling infant from the male before he fainted. She quickly dried him, crying and laughing as she watched Seinu's pink face scrunch up and mewl. Except for small, smooth bald patch receding from his forehead, the rest of his head was covered in small, spongy dreadlocks. Tiny buds without tusks wiggled around his toothless mouth while his clawless fingernails grabbed at the air, the sudden freedom frightening and strange.

She left the cord attached, unsure if she should cut it, and coddled him in her arms to keep him warm, the blanket too dirty to be of use. She purred and held him close, wishing Auran were here to see how perfect their son looked.

The entire cabin was silent, males either staring at her or looking uncomfortably away. The young male who'd help her had finally gained enough sense to wipe his hands off and stagger to a seat. She could hardly care who was watching, the entire day's struggle worth the reward of finally being able to hold him.

After a few minutes, the transport slowed to a descent, a soft thud indicating they had landed. Most of the warriors quickly filed out, grunting in annoyance as an old female swept through them, shouting for them step aside. "You are all slower than slugs. Move! Where is she? Where is— there you are!" The old female swept in, her beaded skirt jangling in irritation as she knelt. "Come, come let me see it, young one." Ahandra hesitated, reluctantly handing him to her when a large guard growled at her from the corner. Another female appeared and handed the muttering elder a knife, which she used to quickly snip and tied the cord, as if she'd done it a hundred times. "Foolish child. Running off into those Goddess forsaken Tunnels." She continued to mutter while she scanned the whimpering infant, passing him off to the other female who wrapped him snuggly in a burgundy cloth. Seinu's cries quickly faded as he snuggled inside his cocoon.

"You seem familiar," clicked Ahandra as she studied the elder's face.

The elder huffed as she cleaned and wrapped up the afterbirth. "Chh, of course you've forgotten old Saira. I only fed you and clothed you and gave you words. No thanks, only questions with you," the elder grumbled.

The memories came flooding back. "You! I remember you now. I don't remember your name, but I know met you when I first came to this world."

"Of course you don't know my name! It's the one question you didn't bother to ask. Now stand up." They both grunted as she helped Ahandra stand on shaky legs. After being on her back for hours it felt good to stretch her legs. Then she noticed the other female was walking away. With Seinu. "Where's she going?" She tried to push past the elder. A pair of males closed in on her. She fought them off, trying to push through. Calloused hands grabbed her wrists and arms and a jaw mask was forced onto her face, muffling her voice. "Follow me," Saira ordered, marching down the ramp without another word.

As the guards dragged her down Ahandra's thoughts were filled with panic. Seinu! Where were they taking him? What were they going to do to him? He needed her. She kicked and twisted, raging against the iron grip of her captors as they dragged her away, fear latching onto her heart as she watched her son disappear from view.

* * *

**/' -;- ,|-**

* * *

Plasma bolts shrieked through the air. E'kru powered up her rifle, the gun humming with pent up energy. "Cover fire," she barked. Her two warrior sisters nodded and unleashed a barrage from both sides of the central elevator. E'kru raised her magnipulse rifle to her shoulder and aimed. As soon as her warriors' shots ceased, an enemy stuck his head around the corner. A hot beam of plasma shrieked from her weapon, punching a fist-sized hole through his head. He toppled to the ground, lifeless. E'kru ducked behind the wall again. A warrior's weapon was starting to overheat. Another indicated there was a system failure in hers. "Give here," she ordered the second one. "Need move back. I shoot. You run. Saa?"

They acknowledged her order and E'kru relayed her plan to Zara. At her signal, E'kru pulled from cover, firing down the hall, while her team made a break for the lower level through a gaping hole that had been blown during the first few minutes of the raid. A male screamed as a hole was punched through his arm. Another crumpled mid-charge, howling and clutching his chest where the super heated plasma had warped bone and organs. E'kru kept firing, making any Thousand Blade think twice about chasing after her team. A voice roared from down the corridor. An unmasked warrior with grey-tinged dreadlocks stepped into view, a fan of white swords on his breastplate marking him a commander. "Get down there, you cowards! For the Shan!" Roars rang out. Reinforcements had finally arrived. E'kru quickly fired off several more shots and dashed for the hole, plasma shots exploding around her. She dropped through the hole, tucking and rolling as she landed. "Go! Go!" She yelled to the Midnight Swords guarding the hole. "Lowest level!" An explosion ripped the air above them with a concussive blast. "Move!" she shouted, picking up those who were struggling to their feet. She'd rigged the plasma gun with the system failure perfectly. Luck was on their side at the moment. Above her, Thousand Blade warriors screamed in rage and agony. E'kru was glad she could not see the bodies.

She raced behind her warriors to the servant corridors, when a whistling sound caught her attention. A snare snapped around her legs and threw her to the ground. A male, the white blade on his chest burnt away, along with half his face, dragged her back towards him. He sent wave after wave of electricity through her, paralyzing her. A shadow leapt over her. The pulling stopped. She looked up in time to see Ajenke ram her sword into the warrior's gut as he fumbled for a weapon. He grunted in disbelief as she ripped it free, collapsing to the ground. Ajenke rushed to her side and helped her disentangle. "Are you alright?"

"Fine. Meet lower level. Regroup."

"Good. I know a way out through there. Get everyone near the Honeycomb to rally to me."

E'kru relayed her orders as they hurried to the rendezvous point. Word quickly spread and Djaidesh'erin and flowers quickly trickled in. Those with weapons checked their charges and wiped their blades, nervously looking over their shoulders. The wounded huddled together, the Matron of healing and her assistants working through them as quickly as possible to seal any major wounds. Ajenke didn't like it. The Thousand Blades probably knew where they were and would be closing in soon.

She turned to her captains. "E'kru, Zara gather everyone! We're leaving." She approached a small alcove partially hidden in the corner, a tiny trickle of water feeding a stone trough below. She drew the golden holographic access code from her vambraces and pressed it against the faint markings on the center of the wall. The stone rumbled and groaned as it shifted and reorganized, a passage large enough for one person at a time opening up. There was no end to the tunnel, the passage swallowed up by darkness. She sniffed, the cool scents of damp moss and bitter water reaching her. "E'kru, take point. I want Midnight Swords to take the front and back of the line. Flowers in the middle. Be as silent as possible. No pushing."

Nobody questioned where they were going. They shuffled quietly along, the rank smell of fear cloying at her throat. As she cleared it, a young flower approached her. Too young to be doing such work, Ajenke thought.

"Um, captain. Where is Ahandra?"

Regret laced through her. She hadn't found any sign of her friend. "I don't know," she sighed.

"Oh," the young female chattered, crestfallen. "She saved me one time. When I was serving in the Red Room. I never thanked her."

"If you're both looking for Ahandra," Nadhiya cut in, wiping blood from her hands onto her robe. "She's giving birth. At this point, she's due at any moment." Nadhiya grabbed Ajenke's arm as she started for the healing facility. "Think! You can't help her! She's too far and you are only one Midnight Sword."

"She's my friend,"Ajenke growled.

"Saa."

The little flower had moved on, the sound of boots and shouts thudding down the passages, getting closer every second. The last half of her warriors had paired up and were carrying a few of those who couldn't walk. Stragglers were still arriving. The matron put her hand on her shoulder. "Go, I will make sure she's safe."

"Iyan! We need you."

"You have Rrek'ne and a couple others. I cannot leave. Just as it is your responsibility to lead, it is my responsibility to stay."

Ajenke bit her tongue. There was no time to argue. And no point. The matron had made up her mind. Nadhiya disappeared down a corridor without another word. She ran to the entrance of the dark passage, pushing in a panicking flower covered in dust and someone else's blood as she pulled the access code out of the stone and hurried to catch up with her sisters, the faint crimson light of their helm lights bobbing up ahead.

Not a second after the passage had sealed shut, the thud-thud of plasma grenades blasted the room they'd just evacuated, shaking the narrow passage. Ajenke's breath caught, the realization of how close they had been to being obliterated threatening to overwhelm her. She swallowed her fear. A dark, cramped tunnel was no place to lose oneself. Time to be brave. For Grall. For her sisters. They were counting on her. She wouldn't let them down.

Thunder rumbled from behind again, louder and Ajenke whirled, her mask zooming in down the passage. Cracks had formed through the several layers of stone guarding their path. Chjit! They'd managed to see their heat signatures through the rock and were trying to blast their way through.

"Zara, we need to pick up the pace."

"What's wrong?"

"They know where we are. Do you have the map I sent you?"

"Saa. I'll run ahead. E'kru will lead."

"Good. Hurry!"

Some flowers overheard her and were beginning to whimper, pushing those in front. One of her warriors hissed at them. Another rumble. She glanced behind, molten stone a bright gleam in the distance. The warriors carrying the wounded struggled to keep up. Unlike the flowers who moaned and cried out, her injured Djaidesh'erin grit their mandibles and kept silent. She felt a swell of pride.

"Ajenke, you're falling behind."

"Keep moving Zara," she clicked, growling in warning that she dare not disobey her order.

"Saa, captain."

Zara was a good choice for captain. No nonsense, plus combat experience. She was a recent purchase from the flat plains of the northwest, her exotic red stripes and auburn tendrils at odds with her even temper. Scars burned into her face and hands marked important kills she made during hunts and battles with the small, rival tribes that littered the temperate savannah. Disease, not war, had conquered her stubborn tribe and left her too weak to resist capture.

A warning sigil flashed over her mask, E'kru's voice lost to static. Communication would be impossible beyond this point. They were out of range of the Midnight Blossom's communication system. A hollow roar echoed down the passage. They'd broken through. They were out of sight, but it wouldn't take a group of pissed off male warriors long to catch up. Ajenke relieved one of her warriors carrying an injured female, both warriors protesting, the injured one begging to be left with a gun to buy them time. Ajenke hissed at them, ordering the female she'd just relieved to run ahead. She refused, taking up the rear. Ajenke didn't argue. They needed to hurry.

They spilled into a sub-system tunnel. It had been abandoned years ago, cut off and left to rot like a diseased limb. "Left!" she ordered. A flower wailed as her carriers plunged down onto the tracks, sliding to a quick halt. Distant roars sent shivers up spine. "Move!"

Heavy panting and moans filled the air, the tunnel slowly curving. Ajenke strained forward. The lift had to be nearby. They couldn't make it to the station in time. Her mask scanned the walls, looking for a hollowed out area. There! Faint lines of heat from wires dimly glowed behind the thick slabs of stone and metal. She raced forward, her muscles burning. She skidded to a halt across from the wall where the lift, slapping the access panel. The door stuttered, slowly shifting open an inch at a time. It froze halfway. Flowers and warriors poured in, packing in until there was no more room. The lift screeched. Too much weight. Ajenke cursed. A few warriors stepped out. The lift sealed shut, a soft whoosh indicating it was functional. Thank the Goddess.

Boots pounded down the corridor, everyone's head snapping towards the sound.

"Get ready,"Ajenke whispered, her weapon humming as she charged it. "Don't shoot till you have a clear shot." Her warriors stood shoulder to shoulder. There was no cover here. It was fight or die.

The lift rattled, energy lines flashing. The first group had made it to the surface. Ajenke breathed a shaky sigh of relief. At least they'd made it.

Two warriors appeared around the bend. "Fire!" she shouted. Several white-hot plasma shots shrieked forward, bathing the tunnel in a fiery flash. One cried out and fell. The other kept racing forward, fearless. She could hear more boots now. A continuous barrage of plasma screamed down the tunnel, the charging warrior untouchable, the distance between him and them closing fast. He roared in defiance, sword in hand. A couple of Midnight Swords started to edge back. Ajenke smelled their fear. "Hold, dammit hold! Bring this sjauk'la down!"

Several beams hit their marks at the same time. The warrior's body exploded into steaming chunks, hot gore spraying the walls and ceiling. Her mask filtered out the stench of his cooked organs, allowing her to focus on their next targets. They leapt over their injured companion, lasers flashing down the tunnel as their masks looked for a target. The lift door stuttered open. "In! Now! Everyone in!" She shouted as she fired. Her warriors dashed in, plasma shots screaming around them. One flashed past her head, its heat drying her scaled skin and sending prickles of fear up her neck and back of her hands. After everyone was in, she ducked into the lift, sealing the door shut. The lift raced up, shots slamming into the metal doors below them. The metal box trembled, gears groaning as the assault tested its safety systems. One of her warriors cried out and grabbed her swaying friend. "Revka!" Ajenke turned, the sight twisting her stomach. It looked like something had taken a bit out of her right side. The injured warrior looked down. "Oh chjit…"

Metal screeched and twisted as white-hot plasma ripped through the floor and punctured the ceiling. Females screamed, shoving into each other. Ajenke cursed and pressed herself against the wall. Another shot slammed into a wall below them, rattling the lift. The injured female was screaming and retching now, the adrenaline in her body thinning out, the pain rushing through her system.

The lift jarred to a halt, the opposite side pealing open. Bright crimson light poured through the widening gap, blinding everyone as they stumbled over each other. A hand grabbed Ajenke and pulled her out, plasma shots ripping the lift apart as its doors sealed shut. Someone guided her forward, the ground strangely soft and uneven. She jumped as plants brushed her flesh, the steady hands never letting go. Someone was screaming in horrible agony. Ajenke squinted, trying to get her bearings, unable to see anything but blurry shapes. Vivid colors and smells overwhelmed her. She panted, the hot, humid air weighing her tired lungs down. Insects buzzed by her head. Finally, her guide set her down in the shade of a giant fern, clutching her hands.

"Ajenke? Ajenke look here."

The light hurt, the world a blurry haze. She blinked several times, squinting as she tried to make out E'kru's face. "Saa. I'm fine. I'm fine."

"You see?"

"Saa," she nodded, the world slowly coming into focus. Her breathing was still ragged. Strange sounds littered the air. Ajenke sucked in a sharp breath, a great winged creature soaring above through the tree limbs, the beat of its wings like soft thunder. E'kru looked up, clicking. "Xora. Big birds. Don't eat yautja." Ajenke snorted, feigning a confidence she didn't feel. "I go now. We move soon. Thousand Blades find us if stay long." Ajenke agreed and gave her leave. E'kru moved through her warriors, ordering them to their feet. She stopped and placed her hand on a Midnight Sword's shoulder, the warrior keening softly, a body by her knees. Ajenke squinted and leaned forward. It was Revka. She lay on the ground, motionless. Anger burned through Ajenke at the loss of another sister, giving her sight greater focus.

Ajenke crawled from her hiding place. She did not want others to think she was hiding. As she slowly stood, she took several deep breaths as she surveyed in her surroundings. Rays of light punctured the high canopy above. Furry creatures raced along thick, twisting branches, hooting down at them before disappearing behind thick tangles of leaves and vines. She slapped her arm at a sudden pinch. A black bug zipped away. She swatted at it as it buzzed around her head.

"How do you find the surface?"

Ajenke tilted her head in acknowledgement to Zara, a smug look pushing back the tattoos on her cheeks. "It's loud. And hot," she clicked, unsure if she liked how the ground sunk beneath her feet. "But the jungle is not so different from the Tunnels. Instead of tunnels made of stone, these are made of plants. And the trees are like the metal columns in the trading areas."

"Nnn," Zara said, her smile fading. "I suppose. I for one cannot wait to jump on the back of a nadak and race across the plains. No trees. Only the sky and the wind and the soft, grassy plains stretching out forever."

"What's a nadak?" Ajenke clicked. She'd only heard of chrovauk as beasts of burden. But they were large and steady.

Zara smiled again. "If we make it, I'll show you how to ride and hunt the novaji."

Ajenke huffed. What was a novaji? How many animals were there on the surface? E'kru interrupted them, bringing reality with her. "Need help. Must move quick and silent." Zara and Ajenke rumbled and set about organizing their groups. They would need to hurry. Zara and her scouts ran ahead to find a certain tree they could nest in that would hide their heat signatures as well as hunt game. Ajenke lost an argument with E'kru on who would stay behind with the most injured and Rrek'ne. When they were gathered, she barked at her warriors to move out. They followed her lead as she jogged through the misty undergrowth.

Despite the strange and exotic plants and smells that shouted for her attention, anxious thoughts began to crowd her mind. She buried them. There would plenty of time tonight to think about such things. She had to stay strong. They had made it to the surface, but they were not safe yet.


	25. Thras'ka

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Jalan –** JAH-lan

**sekfet –** SECK-fet – impure – a derogatory word implying a tainted or undesirable bloodline

**Sorruk –** SOAR-ruck

* * *

**Thras'ka**

* * *

Harsan stood back in the shadows, observing the young sharin'atharr. He sat, head bowed over the gilded blade that lay across his lap, his own sword tossed into the corner of the training chamber, dried blood still coating its obsidian surface. Nearly a day had passed. The killing had shook him deeper than the assassin had anticipated. Natharrak had underestimated the bond Auran had shared with the Singing Blade. If he knew of the young one's struggle, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him once he delivered what the Shan desired. Or perhaps he planned to kill him anyway. Harsan couldn't be sure.

He turned to leave, Auran's rumbling voice stopping him. "If you have something to say, say it." He lifted his head to meet Harsan's gaze, hard amber rooting him to the spot. He sighed, stepping into the harsh crimson glow of the circles, striking a neutral posture. He held no weapons, but neither did he fear Auran's wrath. His pupil was skilled with a blade, but not that skilled. "It's time."

Auran rumbled softly and looked down again.

Anger flickered inside his chest. Such mourning was irrational. There was no shame in vengeance. Small, feathery whispers of guilt tickled his ear, but he ignored them, brushing them off. Later. He had to ignite a fire in this young one's spirit if he were to endure.

"Get up," he hissed, taking a step closer. "The Midnight Blossom burns and the Thousand Blades have your son."

His head snapped up, amber eyes bright and alert. "What?" he breathed. He watched as Auran grabbed his darkblade and set about vigorously cleaning and sharpening it. Harsan tapped his vambrace, one of the walls opening to reveal a set of armor. Their clan garb. Recovered from the bowels of N'tharralis and remade. Black as the pit of a ravenous void star and as light as cool mist. If Auran was to represent his clan, he would do so with their blessing. It gave no room for doubt of his lineage. His young pupil stilled for a moment, his hands forgetting his blade as his eyes took in the gift. He growled lightly in appreciation and returned to his sword. Harsan huffed. The stubborn young fool. He'd refused to let it go even when he'd been dying. He'd found himself strangely moved then as he'd crouched over his bleeding form. To be so defiant in the face of inevitable defeat. To believe in honor when he had none.

The schick of Auran's dark blade as it slammed into its sheath echoed around the chamber, a harsh shriek following as he shoved the singing blade into a plain, leather case. He strapped on the armor, briefly pausing to admire the heft, how it clung to his skin without restraining his movement and the subtle clan symbols engraved into its dark hide. Harsan growled as Auran strapped both swords to his back. His pupil ignored him, securing their straps across his chest.

"How can you carry the very sword that slew your parents?" He could not help but ask. It defied all reason of everything the young one had been told.

Another hard amber glare. "It's a trophy. Nothing more," he rumbled darkly. A challenge. He was daring Harsan to dig at the fresh wound and see what color blood spilled out. He backed down and tried a different avenue. "What will you do when you confront the shan-rai?"

Auran ignored him, swinging a black cloak around his shoulders.

A harsh warning rattled from the assassin's throat. "Do not do anything foolish. I know where your true loyalty lies."

"I am loyal to my clan—"

Harsan rumbled threateningly. "That day I cut you down in the Tunnels you cried out a name."

His pupil went rigid.

Harsan hissed the name softly. "_Ahandra_."

Auran growled, his life flame burning brighter. He was angry. Good. He backed down again, fists unclenching. "You _must_ keep your distance. You sealed the treaty. Show interest only in your son."

The young warrior growled, then turned heel and strode out of the room, his cape flaring out behind like dark wings.

Harsan clasped his hands behind his back, listening until Auran's steps faded and silence returned.

Foolish. All of it utterly foolish. And pointless. A precious pawn in mad dash for power that would leave him broken either way. He hadn't the will to break that spirit with the horrible truth. So he'd lied. Fed his dreams of redemption. Lies. All of it. There was no redemption. His clan had gone too far. There was only vengeance. Only death.

He chanted this to himself as he walked away from the fading circles of light and back into the folds of the dark passages and twisting corridors. Only vengeance. Only death. Only vengeance. Only death.

* * *

**,|- '/, -|; /-'**

* * *

Hands held down her arms and head, the muscles of Ahandra's female captor's palms and fingers tensed in case she tried to fight again. A continuous growl shook her body. She was exhausted. And pissed. Her gaze flickered to the door. An older guard stood inside it, his iron grey eyes never wandering for a second. Thick cords of muscle still clung to his bones beneath his fading olive skin, a multitude of scars marking him as a veteran that took his job seriously. Two others had been posted outside after she'd torn free, knocking out one healer and giving the other a nasty black eye.

Saira cleaned her now, wiping away the blood and sweat and rubbing a cleansing, scentless liquid over her body. She snapped at them to back off and ordered her to sit up with a sharp click. Ahandra begrudgingly obeyed, glaring at the healers while the elder helped her dress. The top straps looped around her neck, allowing her top to comfortably support her aching breasts. A knee length leather breechcloth followed. Saira ticked irritably as she padded away to store the jars and dirtied rags.

Ahandra wanted to bolt. She wanted to find her son. Her anger, rather than burning out the more exhausted she became, had intensified. Everyone in the room could smell it and their tension levels had risen in response. She focused on her breathing, remembering what Auran had said about the power of threitak. She'd watched him meditate before. There was no way she could possibly drive the thought of her helpless son from her mind. She decided to use her anger on itself, fueling her focus as she slowed her breathing, her growls steadily morphing to soft rumbles. Saira rattled, still annoyed. "So, you've decided to behave?"

"For the moment," Ahandra managed to reply stiffly. It wouldn't take much to set her off. "I don't want _them,_" she clicked, cocking her sharply at the guards, "to touch me."

"That's up to Sorruk."

She looked back at the guard watching her from the doorway, arms cross, feet spread apart, his level gaze never wavering from her for an instant. He'd taken her down so swiftly, she hadn't known what was happening until the females had her clamped down onto the table beneath their claws. He hadn't even bruised her. Ahandra's rumblings faded out and she withdrew from their staring contest. He'd have her flat on the ground before she could even think of fighting.

Saira motioned for her attendants to leave, folding her hands into her wide-sleeves. She clicked at Ahandra to follow, Sorruk and his two warriors fanning out in a crescent formation behind them. They walked in silence for a bit, allowing her to take in the breathtaking architecture she'd ignored during her raging as they dragged her into the medical chamber. For all the species' savagery they were capable of wondrous splendors. They eventually stopped before a set of beautifully carved alabaster doors gilded with gold. Saira rumbled. She smelled anxious. "I would advise you to keep your head down. My son's _first mate_," she hissed irritably, "does not tolerate insults from those she deems inferior. If you want your son, you do whatever it takes to control your temper and keep your mandibles still."

Ahandra tensed as the doors peeled silently open. Her son's first mate. Jaiendra shan'ra. Supposedly the most beautiful female in all of Kuuroch. And the most powerful. Perhaps she was the one who had separated Seinu from her. Saira might be prickly, but Ahandra couldn't see her being cruel.

Her anger shifted to the silk-draped female languidly standing in the light of the mid-morning suns, their rays streaming through ivory pillars. Through them Ahandra could see Kuuroch sprawling out below, the sight breath taking. And painful. Sunlight hit her tired eyes suddenly as she walked forward and she winced, sucking in a sharp breath. She'd forgotten how bright the surface was, having only spent a few hours conscious above ground. Saira rumbled at her to keep moving. She took a shaky breath, taking her time as she navigated the blurry floor, the spirals etched into its surface not helping her growing headache. Kalai did it on purpose, she bet, her anger rising slightly at the thought. Thankfully, whatever Saira had rubbed onto her was stifling her musk.

They stopped several paces away, Ahandra bowing stiffly as she followed Saira's lead. She squinted as she came up, Jaiendra positioned perfectly to allow the suns' light to shimmer across the folds her gossamer clothing. Her dress was practically sheer. It was something the girls operating in their private golden rooms at the Midnight Blossom might wear for high paying clients. The shan'ra's ruby eyes coolly assessed her, flicking up and down her body, her mandibles curling slightly in disdain. "I must say, I'm a bit disappointed. Rumor was she was completely feral."

"It appears the Shadow Stalker has tamed her," clicked Saira. Ahandra looked at Saira, confusion furrowing her brow. The elder gave her a quick, sly smile. Two and two quickly came together. Ahandra tensed her mandibles. This was either going to be really interesting. Or really bad.

The shan'ra began slowly circling her, keeping two arms length at all times. Ahandra stood perfectly still, her eyes nearly adjusted to half-shadows of mid-morning. Silk whispered across the ground as the female stopped directly in front her, cocking her head and rubbing her fingers nervously, hesitating. What was she doing? Ahandra tried not to stare at her face. She'd learned to stare too long or too much was considered rude and aggressive and only those with considerable authority and rank were permitted to breach these unspoken social rules. Then, like a heron craning forward to inspect a potential morsel of prey, she stepped forward, head still cocked to the side. She reached a clawed hand out to touch her face and Ahandra felt her hackles rise. Instinctual or simply anger at the one who'd taken her son, she grabbed the shan'ra's wrist. "Don't. Touch me," she growled.

Jaiendra went still with shock, her mandibles twitching as they tried to formulate some kind of response.

In the next moment, rough hands separated the pair. The white stone bit into her knees as she was shoved to the ground, handcuffs tying her hands behind her back. A gentle but firm touch held down her head. Sorruk.

The shan'ra hissed at the other two guards shielding her. They bowed and moved off a short distance, the scent of tension flowing off them. Her gossamer robes shivered in the sunlight as she straightened them, indignation wrinkling her flawless features. "How," she finally managed, "how can you talk?" Her head snapped to Saira. "You! You gave it _words_? _Our_ words?"

Saira clicked thoughtfully. "Saa, I suppose I did. I was curious."

"Damn your curiousity!"

The elder chuffed but said nothing.

Ahandra was tired of being ignored. "Where's my son?"

The shan'ra gave her an imperious glare, as if she'd just been spit at. "Safe. You are not fit to be its caretaker."

"He's my son," she growled back, the hand resting on her crown tensing ever so slightly. _Try something_, it dared.

"That infant is the seal. The treaty is useless without him. And we can't have you running off with him… or worse."

Ahandra fumed, struggling against Sorruk's strength. Jaiendra flinched when she barked. "How dare you think I'd kill Seinu. I'd die for him!"

The shan'ra clicked, incredulous. "That weak little thing has a name?"

Ahandra growled, louder this time, adding a sharp edge to it as it slid up her throat. "You wait till Auran finds out what you've done."

A dark look passed over the shan'ra.

"Ahandra…" Saira softly clicked in warning.

"That reminds me. Where is that cowardly Shadow bastard?"

Ahandra concentrated on her breathing, trying to assemble her thoughts. Think before you talk, Ahandra. You can't win. Just say 'I don't know'. It's that easy.

"Perhaps he abandoned you after he saw what a pathetic pup you produced. It's the only reason to explain his absence. You were _so_ easy to capture."

Ahandra lunged. The next instant, Sorruk had his arms locked around hers, pulling her upright against his chest and squeezing just enough where any movement was incredibly painful.

The shan'ra went rigid. Heat flushed down from her glowing red eyes to her neck and chest. "How dare you! You may have forgotten this when you whored about in that lawless labyrinth, but I _own_ you. So if you ever want to so much as see your little sekfet bastard alive again, you will answer and do as I say. I have no issue ending your life if you dare disrespect me again, the Shan and your Shadow bastard's agreement be damned."

Ahandra's breath caught in her throat. Jaiendra's scent bled with disgust, smothering her anger. Seinu. Oh God, she'd nearly gotten herself killed because she couldn't control her temper. He'd be left at the mercy of the shan'ra. She pictured the squalling pink bundle she'd held mere hours ago, helpless and alone. It felt like a lifetime since she'd held him.

Jaiendra stepped forward until barely a hairsbreadth separated them, her perfume filling the air. "Where is the sharin'atharr?"

Ahandra took a deep breath, the sweet scent making her lightheaded. "I don't know."

"Oh, I think you do."

"He wouldn't tell me. He said it was better I didn't know."

Jaiendra growled. "Lie to me again and I'll make sure you never see your son!"

Ahandra squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn't betray Auran's trust. A cold blade suddenly pressed against her throat and Ahandra's eyes snapped open. "Since your son doesn't mean that much to you, maybe your worthless life does."

Saira suddenly stepped forward. "Shan'ra, this will achieve nothing. Once the Shadow Stalker realizes you have his bondmate he will come. There is no need to spill blood."

A voice of reason, thank God. Ahandra held her mandibles still, staring into Jaiendra's digust-filled red eyes, not daring to move a muscle.

Jaiendra hissed and the elder backed down. "Crawl back into your hole and hide Saira. I have no need of you anymore." She turned back to Ahandra, eyes like burning coals. "One last chance. Where is—"

"Enough!" A voice shouted across the courtyard. Jaiendra lowered her blade, growling in displeasure. Sorruk did not release his hold.

"The thras'ka is mine to interrogate, Jaiendra. I thought I made perfectly clear the last time we met."

Jaiendra sheathed her blade and waved her hand. Sorruk let her go, slipping off the cuffs and following after his mistress.

Ahandra rubbed her wrists, twisting around to look back. Another female was standing toe-to-toe with the shan'ra, both each giving the other a long, hard stare before Jaiendra growled and stalked off, Sorruk and his warriors in tow.

Ahandra released her pent up breath. "Saira, remind me to punch Jaiendra in the face next chance I get." Saira snorted, but Ahandra could tell the thought pleased her. She turned to the stranger who'd quite possibly saved her life, bowing her head. "I don't know who you are, but ak'nandei." When she looked up, the female appeared taken aback. Just like the shan'ra. Ahandra straightened, slightly annoyed. Apparently everyone assumed she was ignorant and violent. Great.

Silence lingered between them, each studying the other. She wore amethyst robes that bunched over one shoulder, the flowing silk draping around her back, kept from brushing the ground by a ringlet connected to her middle finger. A flower surrounded by a sun marked the middle of her forehead, several other tattoos dotting her exposed shoulder. Jaiendra, the most powerful female in the city, had conceded to this female. And she wanted to interrogate her as well. She frowned. "You're welcome."

The regal female's brow furrowed. "What?"

"It's what you say when someone thanks you."

Now she looked even more puzzled.

Ahandra rumbled and crossed her arms.

Both of them nearly jumped when Saira started cackling. She was laughing so hard she was bent double, a hand grabbing her side, the bells on her skirt tinkling. It was Ahandra's turn to be confused. "Um, do you know why she's laughing? 'Cause I'm stumped." The female hesitantly smiled. "I think it's because you just gave a lesson in etiquette to the high priestess of Kuuroch."

Ahandra's jaw dropped slightly. "You're joking."

* * *

**\-' -|- -', **

* * *

"According to my students, I have a very poor sense of humor," Asharah smiled ruefully. "I am Asharah, high priestess of Kuuroch and its territories, successor to Iseneth the Wise."

She watched as the thras'ka absorbed the information. She was impressed. And embarrassed, heat flushing her cheekbones and crest. She'd placed a hand on her hip, rubbing the back of her neck with other. A strange posture. "I'm Ahandra. I don't really have a title." She shrugged and put her hands down.

Asharah was unbalanced. This Ahandra was an alien. And yet she was not. Had she met her and not known what she was she would've dismissed her as a mildly strange yautja and went about her business. Were their species really so similar? She rumbled, troubled at such thoughts.

"Ahandra." She gestured for her to join her in a shaded area overlooking the city. The thras'ka stood by her, a little close for the kai's comfort, drinking in the city. "Wow…" She whispered. Asharah glanced at the city, her heart tightening. Darkness was coming. Yet Kuuroch remained as much the same as it had the past year, completely unaware of the terrible plot to destroy it utterly. She turned her attention back to the strange female, neither huunan nor yautja, yet both. This female, this strange, simple looking female was connected to the heart of the prophecy. Auran Draken'atharr.

"Ahandra?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"Jaiendra may have asked this of you, but I need to know. Where is your bondmate?"

Sadness spread over the young female's face and she looked away. "I don't know."

Fear laced through her. Had Natharrak found him? Were they too late to save him?

"He promised to return… when the baby was born."

"How long has he been gone?"

"Over a cycle."

Goddess help them, anything could have happened.

"Why are you interested in him? You're the kai."

Asharah hesitated. How much should she confide? "Your bondmate is important in more ways than one. He is destined to save Kuuroch. There is much I need to tell him and not much time left." The female's eyes widened at the revelation. It was strange, but the longer she looked at her, the more familiar the female seemed somehow.

"Do you want Seinu too?"

"Who?"

"My son."

Asharah cocked her head. So that's what Jaiendra had been threatening her with. "Iyan. I wish no ill towards your son." Just like that. She wasn't going to examine the infant. She didn't need to consult the Goddess about whether the thras'ka had a soul or not. Her determination to eliminate them if the thras'ka turned out to be an unholy creation suddenly seemed so extreme and short-sighted. Jaiendra had greatly angered that day they first met. Now she realized she had been reacting to the shan'ra's challenge, not the Goddess' desires.

"Ahandra, give me your hand."

The female hesitated, then placed her smooth, bronze hand into her forest green.

"I am going to do a blood reading," Asharah explained. She traced the female's palm, lightly massaging it to relieve any tension and increase the blood flow beneath the skin. "Blood is life. And all life is connected to the Creators. We read the blood marks to hear their voices and interpret their will." She could feel the other tense her palm.

"How do you read blood marks?"

"I will cut here," she traced her light palm with a claw. "And here. And will catch your blood on this holo-sheet. Saira, do you have a knife?"

The elder huffed. "Of course. Only a fool walks around unarmed." She handed her a simple blade. The thras'ka made no objections, but her copper eyes never left the blade. "Try to relax," Asharah chittered. She pressed the blade between the soft folds of skin between the forefinger and the thumb. _Slikt! _The thras'ka hissed and flinched. "One more time." She growled this time, as the second cut burned an 'X' into her skin. The high priestess quickly turned her palm over. "Hold it out flat and let the blood flow until the body heals itself."

It took several minutes, the bright streaks of red imprinting onto the flat holo-sheet. She studied the thras'ka's face while she watched her blood drip onto the glowing paper. Why did she feel so familiar? The thought nagged at her as Asharah quickly rolled the sheet up once the ritual was complete, Saira clucking and muttering while she bandaged the female's hand. "I will study this. It may help understand Auran's destiny. Now I must leave you." The healer and thras'ka bowed as she quickly left. Firak should see this as well, she decided.

* * *

**;|- \'- |',**

* * *

A soft beeping filled the chamber. Natharrak rumbled, agitated. This noise disturbed his calculations. The formula was almost complete. Soon, his army of destruction would be ready. "Sir," clicked Nadurak meekly, "it is from Jalan. He wishes you to see something."

The Master rumbled angrily. "What is it?"

"He has sent us a live vid feed. He is speaking to someone."

"Let us see it," he hissed, leaning back in his chair.

The hologram crackled to life in midair, the grainy image clearing to reveal two females.

"—the attack on the Midnight Blossom, a rigged plasma cannon went off. Captain Dralus was killed in the explosion. I have been nominated to succeed him."

"Congratulations on your future promotion, Tcharr. Now I must insist you let me take this one to the healing bay. Her hand needs cleansing."

Natharrak let loose a raspy growl. Saira. Her time was coming soon. One did not steal his clan's secrets to genetic manipulation and live to get away with it.

"Oh?" purred Jalan. He looked down at the young female, her hand bandaged. The Master's breath caught and he leaned forward. "It can't be," he whispered.

"The kai wanted to do a blood reading," clicked the elder as she tried to insert herself between them.

"I see. Well, I won't waste your time. We'll come for the thras'ka when you're finished. A holding room's been prepared for her."

"My son," the young female blurted, moving past the elder and closer to Jalan. "Can you bring my son to me?"

He cocked his head. "I'll see what I can do."

Jalan followed their figures as they hurried out of sight. "Master," he whispered finally, "did you see it? The resemblance?"

"Saa." Natharrak growled, his eyes bright. "Well done, young sharin'atharr."

"There's something else…" he hesitated. "She… When I touched her, she saw my thoughts. She… saw memories."

Natharrak's browed furrowed. Jalan sounded unsure of himself. It was unlike him. "I will speak with you soon. Observe the female for now."

The vid feed cut, the hologram dissipating like smoke. The Master rose and turned to look out of the window at the top of the Iron Tower, the pale Star Tower gleaming in the distance, rising above sprawling pinnacles and swathes of verdant jungle. "I've underestimated the importance of the thras'ka, Nadurak. I also underestimated the previous kai's involvement with the Shan's plans."

"Master?"

"Iseneth," he hissed softly. "The thras'ka is Iseneth the Wise."

"The previous kai? But she is dead," rasped his assistant.

"Saa, but she must have given her genetic template to Saira. The female is an almost exact copy of the kai."

He heard Nadurak gasp. He finally understood. "Only a kai can open the Book of Prophecy. Iseneth's blood runs through her veins. Since we can't kidnap Firak without risking discovery, we'll use her instead! Once Jalan becomes Captain it should not prove too difficult."

"It will also help us ensure control over Drakenatharr," Natharrak clicked. His assistant nodded vigorously, his pockmarked face twisted with glee.

The thras'ka's image burned before him. The same copper eyes, bright with youth. The same bronze skin, smooth and supple. She was the key to unlocking the prophecy. Such a foolish oversight of Firak to hope he'd never recognize Iseneth's younger form. Once she opened the book, he would know exactly how to defeat the Shan and his minions once and for all. The the Star Tower would crumble and all of Kuuroch would burn as it tore itself apart, her jungles razed to ash and rivers turned to blood. Only then would his ancestors' blood be sated. Only then could he die in peace.

* * *

**-', /- '|,**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to those who reviewed and favorited last chapter. It keeps me motivated. Please review Chapter 25 and let me know your thoughts! Also, for those who don't stalk my profile page ;), I'll be working on a trilogy currently entitled "Son of the Spear" after Forbidden Alliance concludes. For more updates, check out my profile page. I try and update it every few days, or at least once a week to let you know what's going on and how much progress I've made on each chapter. Thanks for reading and have a great week!


	26. Thunder

**Pronunciation:**

**Asjatar –** AA-sjaa-tar

**goran'lok – **goar-RAAN-lock – equivalent to asshole

**N'varak –** ne-VAAR-rack

**N'varak'ii –** ne-vaar-rack-KAI

**Nazek'ri –** nah-ZECK-kree

**thranje –** THRAAN-jeh – a small, reddish-brown bean

* * *

**Thunder**

* * *

The forest was alive with sound, the constant whistling and chirping only interrupted by the howls of the tree dwellers as they scurried overhead, hunting for prey or fruit. The hollow trees the Midnight Swords had made their homes groaned, their honeycombed trunks creaking as they slowly rocking back and forth as the winds tugged at their branches. Ajenke huffed and rolled over to try and find a more comfortable spot. An impossible task. The smoothest and softest spots, some covered in moss and vines, had been given to the injured. She'd kill and skin an animal at this point if it meant having a pelt to sleep on. The thought of gutting something didn't help her rest. She wrestled with sleep, dozing fitfully as she tried to fit her body into the tangle of roots beneath her, the giant ferns she'd plucked the night before starting to become stiff and crack.

Suddenly, the forest quieted. Her eyelids drooped, but she forced herself to stay awake. There was only one reason, other than rain, for the animals to fall silent.

In the darkness, a strange thunder slowly rolled over the treetops. Thrumming, like a great heartbeat, drawing closer with every breath. A shiver of fear and anticipation crawled down Ajenke's spine. Great wings beat the air above, the trees shuddering as the xora flew overhead, drowning out all sounds or thoughts. Their banshee calls filled the forest, echoing for miles. _Who dwells in our forest? _they called. _ Who are you, children of the night?_

And then they were gone. One by one, the animals of the forest, spared by their terrible sky gods, ventured forth, clicking and hooting once more. _Hungry. Mine. Mate. Stay away. I'm here. _

Ajenke growled and shoved off her dry, leathery blanket. She wasn't sleeping tonight.

She quietly made her way out of the tree, padding softly down its mossy sides and towards the crackling fire. So far, neither the Thousand Blades nor ravenous monsters that lurked in the jungle had found them. This worried Zara. Too much good luck was bad, she said. It made one fat and complacent. She'd set up guard rotations. Several perched in the branches of the trees surrounding their shelters, scanning the ground and air for any sign of predators or enemies.

Conversation hushed as she approached, all eyes following her as she found a comfortable spot of dirt and crouched.

"Thought you sleep," rumbled E'kru.

"You need a bed to do that," Ajenke clicked irritably.

Zara huffed softly, laughing. "Soft skin," she teased, poking Ajenke's arm. She growled out a warning, but smiled. Yeah, she was soft. She'd never realized how soft until now, even with Ahandra's occasional teasing.

"Everyone awake. Should make plan," clicked E'kru matter-of-factly as she poked the fire with a stick, orange embers leaping into the air.

"The plan is to stay hidden," clicked Zara sharply. "Too many are injured and we cannot move them." Ajenke glanced between the two, the friction palpable. They must have been arguing about this before she arrived.

"Need information. What happen in Midnight Blossom?" E'kru shot back.

"It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous if stay here."

"We cannot move the injured!"

Ajenke growled and the two captains stilled. The three of them need to be united and calm. She could feel the eyes of the other warriors around the fire and in the trees, watching them, waiting to see what she would say.

"E'kru, you are right, we need to know what happened and if the Thousand Blades control any of the sectors." She turned to Zara before she could protest. "You are also right. There are too many hurt and it would be a disaster if we moved them." She had their attention, some warriors nodding in agreement. "I have been thinking about what we need to do next. We can't stay in the jungle forever. The temple scanners or the Shan's forces will find us eventually. We're going to split into three groups. E'kru, you will take a small team and scout out the Midnight Blossom and see if you can get in contact with Captain Rrourk. Zara, you will stay and guard the main force and the injured. If you need to move, do it."

Her captain sighed. "Why do I sense you are about to do something reckless?"

"I'm going into Kuuroch."

Zara chuffed and crossed her arms. "Of course."

Ajenke ignored her. "The Midnight Blossom has contacts in the inner rings and upper levels. Some owe us favors."

Real thunder rumbled in the distance, the scent of rain filling the air. They discussed who would go, realistic timeframes and worst case scenarios into the night. They were shooting in the dark, Ajenke knew, but it was better than sitting in the mud and hoping nobody found them. The meeting came to an abrupt end as the sky opened up overhead, rain pouring through the canopy and dousing the fire, soaking everyone before they could even reach one of the mossy bulges protruding from giant, pyramid-shaped trees. Ajenke shivered and huddled against a smooth, curving wall with E'kru and a flower whose name she'd forgotten. She didn't remember falling asleep.

* * *

**,- \- '|; |/**

* * *

Storm winds lashed at his cape, rain pelting his mask and armor as he walked the wide lane leading to the heart of the Thousand Towers. The Star Tower. The crystals embedded into its elegant pale sides flashed as webs of lightning raced across the sky, the top lost in the dark, swirling clouds above.

No one challenged him until he reached the first platform, the way blocked by a high wall that circled the entire base of the tower. The sentinels perched on either side regarded him with their crimson eyes, weapons systems whirring as they flared and leaned forward, assessing him. His masked sense their scans, a small warning beacon popping up. One of the drones let loose a mechanized growl. _"Name."_

"Auran Draken'atharr," he huffed, the rain muffling him.

The drone stared down impassively, gears whirring as the operator controlling it checked the systems database and schedule for the day. Seconds ticked by. The operator was probably scrambling for orders from his superiors. A wanted fugitive had just shown up at their front door.

Wires hissed and popped as the two drones disengaged from their platforms. _"You may enter,"_ it rasped. The two machines followed a few paces behind him, weapons systems primed and ready. They would only stun him. But he didn't plan on storming the fortress today.

His guides handed him off to several massive shield guards in golden armor and flowing red capes. Every dread lock was completely covered in golden bands and a red sword embossed their breastplates, signifying that they were the elite guardsmen of the Thousand Blades. Silently, they escorted him to the throne room, stopping at the edge of the gilded entryway. Auran quietly huffed to himself. As always, tradition took precedence over common sense. He was a heavily armed and armored outcast, yet the guardsmen were still ordered to stand back by the shan'rai, who preferred to rely on machines to protect them. He could smell the commander's uneasiness as he approached the three females.

"That's close enough," hissed Jainedra. He stopped halfway across the room. Maybe she wasn't as foolish as he thought. Or perhaps she was just afraid, he mused, inhaling the faint sickly sweet scent of fear wafting from direction of the shan'rai. "If you weren't so valuable I'd kill you where you stand. Do you know how much trouble and embarrassment you've caused us the past four cycles?"

"If you had been patient, I would've come of my own free will. You lost many warriors down in the Tunnels," he rumbled, his voice carrying across the empty space with ease.

"How dare you?" she hissed again. "Am I to know your mind?"

Auran said nothing. Arguing was pointless. Neither of them trusted the other.

Essilin shifted, her face covered in an impassive yet elegant mask.

"What?" the first wife snapped.

"If I may ask?"

"Very well," Jaiendra sighed with a wave her hand.

The second wife turned her gaze on him. "Draken'atharr, do you know what's become of Iyeiden Fire Singer? He has been gone almost a week and we can find no trace."

Pain lanced through Auran's chest, the memories flashing before him. His sword buried in Iyeiden's chest. His guardian's blood spilling on his hands. He'd never felt such rage. It was as if everything he'd buried suddenly rushed to the surface. He'd lost control. He'd lost his answers.

"Draken'atharr?"

Auran snapped to attention, bunching his fists to hide his trembling fingers. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since I left."

The elder female sat back. "I see," she murmured after a moment. "The Singing Blades fear that one of their great masters is lost forever." Essilin folded her hands and bowed her head.

"Your son looks like a thranje bean," piped up Thet, her sunset orange robe cut to show her shoulders.

Iyeiden's dying image disappeared in an instant. Ahandra. Seinu. They were here.

"Thet," Jaiendra growled.

"It's why he came isn't it? It would be rude not to let him see them before he dies."

"I'm not going to die, young shan'ra."

"Oh?" Thet purred, cocking her head to the side.

"Because we'll be there," a voice called out from behind. Auran turned in surprise. I'aquin sauntered in, Hetarrak lagging behind as he gawked at everything. The Hidden Dagger dragged him to attention when they met in the middle.

"Goran'lok. We have a debt to pay. You're not going anywhere without us," he rumbled. Hetarrak beamed. Wires hissed and popped as Auran took off his mask. "Daka," he sighed.

"What is this?" Jaiendra was standing, a displease look marring her perfect features. "Thet!" she barked. "This has your claw marks all over it. What did you do?"

"These two requested they accompany the Shadow Stalker on his quest. I spoke to the Shan and he approved." The young wife smiled proudly at her cleverness, as if unaware that Jaiendra was fuming barely a few steps away, a volcano about to erupt. The young shan'ra's face turned dark a second later and she stared straight at the male trio. "I'aquin."

"Thet," rumbled the warrior, his features equally serious. The pair continued to stare each other down for several moments.

"Um, I'aquin," whispered Hetarrak, "You're not supposed to stare at the Shan's bond mate like that. He'll—"

"That little brat and I have a score to settle. She tried to kill me once," he growled, averting his gaze back to his friends. Before Hetarrak could ask why, Jaiendra, who'd been ignored for long enough, interrupted. "If you're finished, the Shan will explain your mission."

Doors sealed shut as the room went dark, a large hologram crackling to life, the crimson image of the Shan in his battle armor filling the air.

"Sharin'atharr," he growled, his deep voice rumbling throughout the chamber. "You've tried my patience these past twelve months. Hiding under the protection of one of my greatest enemies was very clever, but as you should've realized, the Tunnels are filled with dishonorable traitors and cowards. Captain Sef was well rewarded."

Auran's hackles rose and he growled. That _bastard_.

"I will now reveal your purpose and your means to redeem your honor. Behold, the birthplace of yautjakind." A map of a system materialized. Two suns. Six planets. A section of the map highlighting the fourth planet with two small moons amplified and the Shan took it into his hands, pulling it wide until the world filled the space between him and the three warriors. "This is N'varak." Massive cities, greater than those of Ashann, covered the world. Thousands of ships circled its atmosphere. "Based on the last report of my spies before they were killed, the sword of Ashann lies in this temple, here." The planet was replaced with a ziggurat, the central chamber highlighted.

Auran's breath caught. The sword of Ashann. The most sacred artifact to ever exist, thought lost after the Great Exodus when the prophet been killed. Whoever wielded the blade was said to inherit the blessings of Ashann. No one would resist following the yautja who carried that blade.

It all suddenly made sense. Shaidra was going to overthrow the High Clan of Ashann when he returned from his crusade, the prophet's sword in hand. The High Clan was weak. And with the sword no one would oppose him. It was little wonder this would redeem the Shadow Stalkers.

"You will retrieve the blade and return it by the time my fleet returns to Kuuroch. You have less than a cycle," he rumbled, the holographic maps streaming into Auran's gauntlet. "If you succeed, your clan will be reestablished and the ancient pact renewed with the next ruling clan of Kuuroch, which I will name when I return. The sons of the Hidden Daggers and Thunder Slayers will be rewarded as well. Now go. May the God guide your swords." He disappeared, the room lightening.

Auran let out a heavy breath. The odds were against them. It was practically suicide.

He suddenly spotted Saira as she slipped into the room. She nodded to him and folded her hands inside her robe's long sleeves.

"I'aquin. Hetarrak. Prepare the ship. I'll be with you shortly. There's something I need to do first." I'aquin pulled Hetarrak along before he could start asking questions, growling when he dragged his feet and started whining.

"And where do you think you're going?" Jaiendra called out, her sharp tone making him pause.

"To make sure you didn't damage what's rightfully mine," he growled back. He ignored her shocked clicks and followed the elder out.

/

/

/

The chamber was crumbling.

Its fleshy walls split and cracked, bones tumbling from the ceiling as the creatures ripped into the heart of the labyrinth, screeching and howling. Black ichor dripped from above, hissing as it hit the floor, a foul smelling stench rising from it as it slowly ate through the bones scattered about. Tyler cried out as some of it hit her arm, her hand burning as she desperately tried to wipe away the sticky goo.

Ahandra grunted as she cut down a small demon that had dropped from the ceiling, too stunned by the fall to fight back. There were too many, she knew. She whirled, slicing a spawn carrier in half, its spindly legs and long tail whipping frenziedly on the ground before the creature shuddered and stilled. It was then she noticed the door set into the far side of the chamber. She didn't question its sudden appearance. No time for thinking. Only action. The chamber was a death trap. She grabbed the screaming prey thing and hauled her to the exit. Two fighters were better than one.

The ceiling ripped open then, black, eyeless demons pouring from the walls, their inner mouths drooling for blood.

The warrior dragged Tyler though a door, slamming it shut before the slavering monsters could follow them. She could hear their claws rake across it, the black, twisted exit groaning as they slammed their elongated skulls into it, their muted shrieks filled with hunger and frustration.

Lightning made her jump and she looked up to see sky. Swirling clouds raced across the barren landscape, purple flashes rumbling in the distance. The land was scarred and burned, the ruin of some great civilization crumbling across the bleak, gray landscape. The door they'd passed through led to the top of a battered ziggurat.

The mask whirred as it shifted between view modes and Ahandra scanned their surroundings several times. This did not make sense. They had been underground in a labyrinth. Now they were above ground on world she'd never seen. Impossible.

"Did we go through a portal?" Tyler half-asked the tall female as she looked around. The monster rumbled something incomprehensible and moved forward. Not much for talking, she decided as she followed after.

The strange purple lightning continued to crackle overhead as they made their way through the twisted ruins, massive black craters dotting the landscapes. Metal had twisted and fused into unnatural shapes, the after effect of some sort of super-heated weaponry. It reminded her of Korea, she thought as she looked around. She'd seen what the plasma tanks could do to a single town. She was glad she hadn't had to use plasma weapons against another human. Hand-held plasma weapons had still been in the prototype stage during the war.

The female was lagging behind. Ahandra gave sharp bark for her to keep up. The alien gave some nasty retort in her gibberish language when she caught up. Ahandra snorted. Stupid, brave little thing. The prey was lucky it was useful.

The pair continued on in silence, trekking towards the heart of the city. Other than the thunder, it was unnaturally quiet. There was no wind. No scent except ash and dust. It unnerved her, being unable to smell nothing. The land was cold and dead. Nothing living, not even insects flickered in the twilight of this world. Was this one of the realms of Hell? She tried remembering what she might have done to deserve such a fate, her memory coming up blank. The only thing she remembered was the labyrinth and her name. Nothing else. A chill entered her and she shivered. Why couldn't she remember who she was?

The warrior had gone strangely quiet, Tyler noted. She did not push them as hard, her steps hesitant. Even she appeared unnerved by this place. Tyler stopped, suddenly noticing a strange sound. She looked around, the source faint, yet everywhere. "Do you hear that?" The female stopped, cocking her head and listening. The droning became louder, higher.

Ahandra barked a curse and clambered up the side of a building. She looked across the land, her hearts beating faster as her masked zoomed in and switched sight modes. Hordes of demons were closing in around the city, drawn by some signal. Was there a queen nearby? She leapt to the ground, rolling to crouch as she landed, popping up and sprinting towards the pale central tower that rose above the destruction.

Tyler raced after her. Whatever she'd seen, it hadn't been good. More monsters? She leapt over rubble strewn across the grid shaped streets, her lungs burning as she struggled to keep up. Pain lanced up her arm and she cried out, stumbling to the ground. Tyler rolled to her back, groaning as she held up her hands in front of her. Black veins pulsed over her ash grey arms, long black claws splitting her fingertips and curling into vicious claws. "Oh shit," she moaned. The black ichor that had dropped onto her. It had infected her somehow. Tyler screamed suddenly as her flesh twisted and a black bone ending in deadly spike burst from an elbow. The infection blackened her veins as it raced up her arms, searching for her heart. She struggled to stand.

Ahandra skidded to a stop and turned. The creature was writhing in pain. She scanned her. The body was changing, morphing at an accelerated rate. Ahandra snarled. Somehow, she was turning into one of the demons. She unlatched her sword. She would grant it a merciful death. The creature tried to run, it stumbled, shouting something garbled and annoying. A pity it couldn't die with honor, she thought as she raised her blade.

_Ahandra._

The voice came from everywhere. She hesitated, lowering her blade a fraction. The female had also stopped yelling. She'd heard it too.

_Ahandra. _

A violent wind tore across the plains and lightning flashed across the sky, the dark miasma above starting to froth angrily.

_Ahandra!_

"Auran!" the female cried out, the infection spreading across her cheeks and jaw, her arms completely transformed. Hair fell from her bulging head in clumps.

That name. She should know that name.

Ahandra braced herself, sand blasting down the street, biting into her arms and thighs. The ground trembled, stone and metal groaning as they were suddenly ripped from the ground and sucked up into the spiraling dark sky. Thunder roared as giant arcs of lightning hammered the ground, smashing smaller towers, their shattered remains floating into the sky to be consumed by the howling vortex forming above. Ahandra shouted and fell to her hands and knees, walls and glass whipping over head as they tumbled into the sky. The ground trembled beneath her like a corpse coming to life, the bleached towers and walkways rattling more violently with each passing second.

The creature collapsed several feet away, her body convulsing as the infection spread to her mind and internal organs. The voice was fading. The horde was closing in, their shrieks carried by the shrapnel filled gale. The earth groaned, giant cracks and rifts tearing the city apart, tossing Ahandra to the ground as it whipped back and forth. The sky began to melt, black pillars of clouds pouring into the crevices like tentacles into an open wound.

Ahandra thought she heard the voice whisper her name again before the howling winds ripped it away.

The vortex descended then, consuming the white monolith in the center first.

Demons flashed in the shadows, circling them, uncaring that the world was dying. They were hungry. The creature was still writhing as her bones reformed, a long, bony tail ripping from her spine with a gut wrenching squelch. After a moment she stilled. Ahandra jumped to feet, searching for her sword. Gone. She must've lost it during the quake.

Suddenly, the prey thing rose, a sweeping crest blooming from her forehead. Ahandra snarled, backing away, frantically searching for a weapon. The creature grinned coldly back at her, her eyes have fallen out long ago. The new queen pointed and her children squealed in delight as they rushed in to feast.

Desperation filled her and she threw back her head, her shout lost in the howling thunder of the vortex as it descended on her and the ravenous horde. _Auran!_

And the world tore itself apart with a final clap of thunder.

Ahandra jolted awake, sweat soaking her cold skin. Someone held her. Black armor and well muscled, auburn arms surrounded and pressed against her. She looked up, hearts beating wildly. Auran. Her face stung.

His eyes were filled with fear. "God, don't ever do that again," he breathed, pulling her into an even tighter embrace, a hand entangling itself in her tresses.

She whimpered and wrapped her arms around his neck. He'd found her. He'd finally come.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

She shuddered as his warm breath washed over her cold skin. "I don't care that you broke your promise," she croaked, hugging him tighter. His hands caressed her skin. They were trembling. "I was so afraid you weren't coming back again. That you were dead," she choked on the last few words, relief filling her.

"I thought they did something to you," he whispered hoarsely, caressing her face. "When you didn't wake up and you were shaking… I-I couldn't think of anything else to do." He cupped her stinging cheek. She could smell his sorrow and relief.

"I'm okay. Just a nightmare."

"They're getting worse—"

"Shh," she pressed her fingers against his mandibles. "I'm okay. It's okay…"

Their mandibles found each other, desperately grasping and stroking the soft webbing of their mouths. He pushed her down on the pallet, caressing the edges of her mouth and tracing the sensitive veins of her neck. She gasped and ran her fingers through his locks, stroking and tugging on them. Her mandibles locked onto his, her soft tongue pushing into his mouth. He groaned, his own tongue finding hers, his mandibles pushing her down and caressing her cheeks and jaw. She squirmed beneath him, her scent overwhelming. Auran rumbled as his length hardened, pressing uncomfortably against his groin guard. It had been so long since he held her or had any kind of release. He wanted her. Needed her. Because this time he probably wouldn't come back. Auran ripped off her thin garments and ran his hands over her skin, drawing in her scent, her body trembling beneath him.

A tiny mewl made him pause.

Ahandra gently pushed him back and crawled to the corner of the pallet piled with most of the furs. The mewling turned into insistent cries and she picked up the tiny bundle hidden in the pile, unwrapping it and pressing it against her swollen breasts. Auran edged closer, his throat tightening as tiny hand reached out and grasped at his bond mate's breast. She smiled at him and pulled away the top half of the blanket. Soft, stubby tresses poked from his son's skull. His skin was bronze tinted like his mother, distinctive dark brown spots and stripes beginning to develop. He suddenly felt huge, covered in his clan's armor. Seinu was so small. He'd never realized how tiny newborns were. He settled next to Ahandra, peering down to watch his pup suckle, the moment of passion forgotten.

"He has your eyes," Ahandra murmured, laying her head on his shoulder. Pride swelled through him and for the first time in months, he felt genuinely at peace. He reached to gently pet his son's head, marveling at how fuzzy his locks were. He pressed his head against Ahandra's, regret suddenly filling him.

Once again, he had to leave this behind. But he would come back. He swore to himself then that he would return, Ashann's sword in hand, the odds be damned.

"I have to go," he rumbled after a while, shifting away. Ahandra pulled Seinu away from her breast and placed him over her shoulder, gently patting his back. He drooled sleepily, finally letting out a tiny burp. She switched him to her other breast and he greedily clamped on, sucking loudly.

Damn. He hoped his son didn't stay like this for long. Ahandra made him soft enough as it was.

"Where are you going?"

"The mission. I have to leave now."

"How long will you be gone?"

He sighed, unable to meet her eyes. "Less than a cycle."

He could smell her displeasure. That's what he'd said last time. She reached behind his neck and pulled him close, kissing him fervently. When he finally managed to tear himself away, they didn't say goodbye or make promises. By now they both knew in their hearts what the other was saying. _I will wait for you. I will return._ He laid his cloak over Ahandra for her to keep warm and left, his chest aching.

He pushed his emotions down, steeling himself as he approached the hangar. Not only his life hung in the balance; I'aquin and Hetarrak were depending on him. He'd mark their left debt paid once this mission was over. They could move on with their lives, honor restored.

Hetarrak had already prepped the N'varak'ii ship that had been stolen. It would help give them momentary cover as they slipped onto the planet. I'aquin was loading the last of the gear when Auran arrived. They nodded to each other as Auran made his way on board. Hetarrak was playing with the controls. "These are surprisingly similar to ours," he clicked as soon as he heard Auran approach. "I mean, they're efficient and all, but personally I prefer the Nazek'ri models. Real sleek, but they have this great kick and can maneuver through tight spaces like a…"

Auran smiled as he tuned out his chattering friend. He was the best pilot in all of Kuuroch. But sometimes he talked too much. The hull sealed shut with a thump. I'aquin was on board. Auran input the coordinates the Shan had given him while Hetarrak primed the engines. Their course set, the ship blasted into the twilight, piercing the atmosphere with a concussive shockwave. The void spread before them, Asjatar, the largest of the three moons, rising to greet them. Auran pulled I'aquin aside to plan, content to let Hetarrak work the foreign ship. There wasn't much time.


	27. Nyrendi

**Pronunciation:**

**Nyrendi –** nigh-REN-dee

* * *

**Nyrendi**

* * *

The guards scattered like cockroaches at the sound of approaching footsteps, tossing their game and bets into a locker and scrambling for a post out of sight in one of the nearby prison holds. The shan'ra was coming and she was furious. Rumor had quickly spread throughout the tower about the secret meeting she'd held with the Shadow Stalker. Some say he'd insulted her and she'd finally banished him. Whatever had happened, she'd rampaged through palace, taking out her rage on anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross her path. The final guard scrambled away just in time.

The shan'ra swept through the central hold without a second glance, her elite guards bypassing the security protocols to allow her access to the lower chambers. The rank stench of blood assaulted her as she stepped out of the lift and Jaiendra's mandibles curled in disgust. She understood the need for torture. Pain was an adequate motivator for uncooperative enemies. But it was incredibly messy. The prisoners howled and cursed, covered in their own filth and blood. Disgusting.

Fear was much cleaner. Fear led to power and respect. Pain only led to hate and then you had to kill your enemy when they were so much more useful alive. The thras'ka had learned that when Jaiendra had lost her temper. She had smelled the creature's fear as she'd pressed the knife against its throat and threatened to take away its spawn. It had been a very good performance. Even Saira had thought she might kill the thing. A ruse of course. The sight of blood sickened her.

And this infernal hellhole was filled with the stink of it. It was making her nauseous.

She growled angrily as she followed the guards to the torture cell's newest occupant. That Shadow bastard wasn't afraid of her. His flippant retorts and veiled threats had infuriated her. No male but the Shan dared talk down to her in such a way. Only he had such right to use her and demand obedience. And Jaiendra gladly submitted to his will. The power that came with it was well worth the small sacrifice of bearing his offspring, humiliating as it was. She wished she could seal her children inside another female and avoid such a painful experience. But then she'd appear weak. The weak did not deserve to bed a Shan or rule a city. Slaves were weak. Like the thras'ka. Jaiendra's blood was far too pure and strong. Death, however much she feared it, would be a far better fate.

She would insist in the future on the prisoner being placed special cell. A clean cell. She refused to enter this hold any more. To descend into the earth was undignifying. She was not Tunnel scum.

The cell door swished open, the metallic taste of fresh blood filling her mouth. Jaiendra coughed and turned away, covering her mouth to keep from vomiting. She took several steadying breaths and then stepped inside.

Pleasure shivered through her as she gazed upon the naked, battered form of the Mistress strung up between two posts. It was almost enough to distract her from the filthy walls and stench of death.

"The great and powerful Mistress. Kneeling in her own blood. How humiliating," she purred, taking another step forward. The guards had informed her that her tongue had been cut out. Questioning her was pointless, but that didn't mean she couldn't suffer. The Mistress was the exception to Jaiendra's rule. She couldn't be used. Yan, this was punishment. Punishment for all the embarrassment, all the trade disruption and assassinations. Once the Shan returned he would execute her. The arbitrators would look the other way of course. She'd been a thorn in their hides as well.

"We destroyed it. Your precious Midnight Blossom. Along with the rest of those whores." The Mistress remained still. "Including the Midnight Swords. Our warriors cut them down like grass before a scythe. Pitiful really." The lie worked. She'd stirred, raising her head slightly. In truth, the female warriors had stifled the assault long enough for the supposedly imprisoned Third Captain to rally the remaining shield warriors and halt the cleansing. The informant Sef had not been so trustworthy after all. Not surprising. He was a traitor.

"They begged for mercy before they were killed. But your matrons were even more pathetic. Groveling and pledging their loyalty to the Thousand Blades in exchange for sparing their miserable lives."

A low growl emanated from the Mistress. Now for the final blow. She moved closer, bending over as she whispered. "We found your daughter." The growling stopped. Her body had gone rigid with tension. "It seems after Sef handed you over, he went back for her. Poor thing. Tied up and unable to fight back. He stabbed her. Over. And over. _And over._"

This Mistress' head snapped up and she roared. Jaiendra flinched, shock sapping the blood from her face. Her guards pulled her back. The Mistress howled and thrashed against her chains, gurgling curses at the guards until they beat her into silence.

Jaiendra grabbed the doorframe, hissing as her golden-clad guardians tried to pull her out of the room. They backed away. "Leave me," she whispered hoarsely. They hesitated. "Da'kande! Guard the door. Don't let anyone in unless it's important!" They silently obeyed, despite their uneasiness.

The door sealed shut and she was left staring at its slate gray panels.

_Impossible, _she thought as she turned her gaze to the Mistress. Fresh blood dripped from her mouth and one of her eyes was swelling up. But her face was unmistakable. Age had barely changed her. "It's not possible," she breathed. "The assassins assured me you were dead. That no one could have survived the crash."

The female looked away.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you!" she hissed. "_Nyrendi."_

Her rival's bright green eyes blazed hatred as they locked gazes. Her mandibles silently mouthed the word _kalai. _

Hot rage bloomed inside her chest. More than twenty years had passed and she still dared to insult her. She was the shan'ra. Was everyone blind to that fact today!?

"I don't know how you survived. But I'll make sure to send you Hell personally this time. Before the Shan sees you. I'm not going to take the chance of him recognizing you and banishing you to some far off land like last time!" she spat. His only moment of weakness. Nyrendi had been a loose end and he'd been too soft.

Confusion filled Nyrendi's features and Jaiendra paused. Did she not know? Why did she think he would kill her? It suddenly clicked a moment later. Excitement fluttered through her. "You think he sent the assassins… don't you?"

Nyrendi bared her fangs, but there was an uncertainty in her eyes.

She didn't know.

Should she reveal the truth? Jaiendra pictured the shock on her face. It filled her with a giddy sense of triumph she hadn't felt since her bonding ceremony. A wicked smile pulled her mandibles apart. "Shaidra didn't try to kill you." She paused, savoring the moment. "I did."

Her rival's jade eyes widened in shock. Then slowly narrowed as she growled. Her words died in her throat with choked rasps. Jaiendra half wished she could speak. To hear her denials would fill her with great pleasure.

"Saa, it's true. I knew how much Shaidra favored you, even though you both tried to keep it a secret." It had been incredibly naïve of him to think he could choose who he bonded with and not consider the political ramifications. He was, after all, the future Shan. Not just any female could be allowed to bond with him. "When our clans went to war, I planned to make sure you didn't survive. A tragic casualty amongst the many dead. Your clan, what was left it, faded to the lower echelons of society. And Shaidra… he was finally free of your curse. He became strong. My clan was rewarded for their victory and I quickly positioned myself as the most desirable of the Howling Phantoms' females." Jaiendra purred softly at the memory. He'd hidden it, but she had sensed the pain he'd buried deep inside himself at his failure to keep Nyrendi alive. She'd played on that. She pretended she'd lost a lover in one of the clan battles. While other females danced suggestively during the feasts and heaped flattery on him, Jaiendra had danced with desire tempered with despair, trying to blend with the crowd, yet making sure she was at the center of it all. A few conversations, a couple "accidental" glances and blushes, the right amount of skin, and a desperate plea for him to leave her alone, she didn't deserve him, and he'd bedded her in less than a cycle. They were bonded soon thereafter.

She purred. "He's quite vigorous in bed. I imagine he'll need me a great deal after being away for almost a year." Heat flared between her legs. The thought of his rod pounding her until she screamed in pain and pleasure sent shivers up her spine. Vigorous was putting it mildly. He never failed to leave her exhausted.

In return for her submission, Jaiendra had bore him five sons. Her first child had been a daughter. After that, she'd sworn she'd never have another. It was easy enough. Every few months she would have herself scanned. If she was pregnant with a female, she had it scooped out and thrown away, then offer sacrifices in hopes her next child was male.

Nyrendi's gasps pulled her from her thoughts. Trembles wracked her body, the chains pulled taunt with tension. Her chest heaved, raspy growls tearing from her throat.

"Don't worry. I won't let him see you in such a state," she cooed. "I'll kill you before he returns. Then you and your daughter can be together again." She bowed her head, smiling the whole time. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Nyrendi."

Jaiendra left the sobbing female, the door cutting off her ragged howls as it clicked shut behind her. She ignored the prison guards scurrying out of sight as she exited the dungeons. Suddenly, she was in a much better mood.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry this one was so short. I consider this the end of the middle. The beginning of the end starts next chapter! Please review (^-^)


	28. Hopeless

**Pronunciation:**

**lak'shura** – LAAK-shoo-rah – apologies/ I'm sorry

**Neyenthul** – nay-YEN-thull

**sevkra** – SEV-kraa

* * *

**Hopeless**

* * *

Ajenke stepped into the shadow of the wide entrance, squinting through the haze of heat pouring from the blazing forges spread out across the metal grated floor. The vent shafts hummed as they sucked smoke and ash up their blackened walls, the heavier scents of sweat and metal filling the air. Sparks flew as burly weapons smiths pounded molten metal, the fiery darts bouncing off their thick, charred hides, blackened from working so close to the fires. Shrieks from grinders and lasers pierced the thunderous din as artisans refined and decorated blades, axes, clawed gauntlets and a hundred other weapons.

A young male with a burn scar twisting his jaw and chest approached her. "Females aren't allowed here. Wait outside."

"I'm checking on an order I placed."

"You'll be messaged when it's done," he replied tersely.

"It's a special order. Tchengar himself is working on it."

This caught his interest. "What sort of blade did you request?"

"A blade made of bone with a ruby hilt."

"I see," he rumbled. "In that case follow me."

They wound their way through the mazes of forges and crafting areas, the burnt youth leading her to a side area separated by a curtain of chains and odd bits of metal strung together. Beyond the curtain were three smaller forges. Males younger than the one guiding her crowded around one of the furnaces, the Forge Master giving a lesson on crafting. He pulled the blade from the superheated oven, quickly and efficiently beating the metal into the desired shape. Despite their size, his large hands went through the motions with a grace that came only after years of practice and refinement. Thick slabs of muscle bulged beneath his skin as he hammered the metal, his soot stained apron straining to hold back his hefty gut with each blow, loosely tied tresses swaying behind his head. He finished his work with coolant spray, the hot metal howling as it turned a smooth charcoal gray. He handed the long knife to another weapons smith and the students returned to their chores, excitedly chattering about their teacher's skill and what they learned.

Tchengar motioned with his burnt fingers for his apprentice and her to approach. "Any particular reason why you brought a female into my forge, young one?"

The burnt youth bowed. "She's here to check on the special order you're creating for her."

The master squinted at her and frowned. He gestured for the apprentice to leave. "Come with me, girl," he growled.

She followed him out of the training area and up a flight of stairs. Design schemes floated in the air above an ornate desk. Weapons of every size and shape hung menacingly from black spikes nailed to the metal patchwork of walls, the ribs of the building visible through the broken slabs. The holograms disappeared with a rough tap. "What do you want? More armor? Knives? Chah… it's not right for females to be wearing armor…"

"Not now. I have to secure the Midnight Blossom's holdings first."

Tchengar looked up at her as leaned over his table, an elegant sword with the hilt of a half sun, rays flaring from its curved handle slowly spinning around the table below him, framing his face in crimson glow. "I heard about the raid."

Ajenke remained silent, the scenes of death and fire filling her mind.

"Word is they took your Mistress." A fanged smirk spread over his swarthy jowls. "Then ran like dogs from females in black armor that fought like vengeful demons."

"They fought and died with honor," she clicked sharply.

Tchengar's smile faded. "What do you want, Ajenke? The last place I expected you to be was in my forge. I thought I told you I was done with the Tunnels."

"I need your help."

"You need bone or credit for that. I'm guessing you don't have much of either to spare at this point."

"Let me clarify: I need information."

The Forge Master huffed and looked back down at the hologram, brushing it off to the side. He straightened and crossed his arms. "What do you want to know?"

"Eskelis. I need to know where to find him."

"The poison brewer," he nearly spat. Tchengar was a purist when it came to weaponry. The only thing that should coat a blade, in his opinion, was blood. "If I knew where that skulking wretch was I'd turn him into the Poison Blades for the reward of watching his head roll."

Ajenke bit back a curse and paced restlessly around the room. She'd hoped she'd finally found a lead with Tchengar.

He let loose a frustrated growl. "I'm trying to get out of the black market, girl. You sure are making it damn difficult the way you keep demanding armor and the like."

"Then tell me who can help and I will leave," she growled back, tresses whipping behind her as she spun. "Every person who owes the Midnight Blossom a favor is hiding like a cowardly sevkra in its hole."

"That's your problem, not mine."

"I'll make it yours if you don't start cooperating."

He slammed his fist on the table, cracking the glass covering. "Don't you dare threaten me girl! I paid my debts to you and your Mistress."

Shame filled her then. Tchengar had been nothing but helpful this past year and she'd just treated his work as if it had meant nothing. "Lak'shura, forge master. I'm frustrated and exhausted. If you can't help me then I've failed." Her shoulders slumped.

"Failed at what?" he rumbled, the tension slowly receding from his broad shoulders.

"I'm trying to save my mother. But it's impossible. Even if I could find someone crazy enough to break into the Thousand Blades' fortress, I—"

Tchengar barked in disbelief. "What? Why would the Thousand Blades be interested in your whore mother?"

Ajenke sighed. It didn't matter if he knew. "My mother is the Mistress."

His amber eyes widened. "So… you need to find someone willing to go up against the Shan, huh?" His face has hardened. "You've been going to the wrong players, girl. The Tunnel scum can't help you, they've been underground too long. And Eskelis and his ilk won't be much help either."

"Who then?"

He rumbled, brow furrowing. "There's only one person I can think of with the capability of taking the Shan on and not getting caught. Used to smuggle my unsanctioned orders to other cities. I haven't dealt with him in months though."

"Would he hear me?"

"I don't know. My name might get you through his door."

"Who is he?" Hope filled her again. Maybe there was a chance to save her mother after all.

"Neyenthul. He's one of the leaders of the Sky Runners guild."

"The Sky Runners? But I thought they were legitimate. They're one of the most powerful trade guilds on the continent."

Tchengar chuckled. "Legitimacy doesn't prevent a person like Neyenthul from expanding into alternative means of profit."

* * *

**'/- \- -',**

* * *

She managed to hitch a ride to the trade sector of Kuuroch with what little funds she'd pooled together from the flowers and warriors back in the temple jungle. Ajenke ignored the side stares the pilot kept giving her and quickly hopped off, pushing her way through the crowded streets as females bartered and shopped while black clad slaves ran errands.

The noise was overwhelming and she felt completely exposed, the hot suns burning her pale skin. Eyes watering, she blinked away the blurry images and squinted.

"Out of the way!" Someone shoved her to the ground, the stone street biting into her knees and shoulder. She growled and looked up. Muscular guards marched passed her, bearing a palanquin that held a fat female greedily chewing on the guts of a fish. _Bitch._

Ajenke stood, angrily brushing herself off. Her robe was torn. A low moan curled through her stomach. She hadn't eaten in two days. She was hungry, sore, sunburned and frustrated.

"Fat kalai," she muttered under her breath as she continued on her way.

The Sky Runners headquarters loomed above the other spires and fortresses. Ships of every size and color nested within its golden branches. Below, high arches sheltered silk swathed traders as they conducted business. Some were female, which was a relief. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. She approached brawny guard with jagged, black stripes guarding one of the lifts, the symbol of the guild tattooed onto his forehead. He cut her off before she could speak.

"State your business," he clicked, his deep scowl letting her know he wasn't interested in games.

"I'm here to see Neyenthul on behalf of Tchengar, the Forge Master."

He tapped his gauntlet, her appointment flickering to light. Another tap and the doors peeled apart. "Enter. A drone will guide you to the meeting space. Do not deviate from its path."

She stepped onto the lift, her stomach twisting in knots. The doors shut and she rubbed her hands together anxiously. Ajenke had discovered she hated heights. She'd met with a ganger in a repair hive, a cylindrical ship yard set into the earth for thousands of feet. She'd almost fainted after she'd looked over the edge. The ganger had thought it amusing.

A drone met her as soon as the lift doors opened. Its large glowing red eye pulsed as it scanned her, shiny black tentacles sprouting from its bottom to sign a greeting. "Welcome. Please follow," it chirped. It sucked its limbs back inside and glided to a set of bronze doors across the empty foyer, patiently hovering near them. She glanced about the room, entranced by the ships passing by the windows, their engines shaking the glass and sending tremors through her feet. Ajenke gravitated towards the windows for a closer look, having only seen the ships as they soared through the clouds high overhead.

A massive freighter connected to one of the docking ports above, vapor hissing from its valves. Farther down, a personal transport docked, two females in crimson robes disembarking. Most likely traders, here to ply their goods or negotiate prices. Larger repair drones zipped by.

There was so much to look at. It was mesmerizing. To move without restriction. She glanced up at the sky. The dark orange ceiling was an illusion. Beyond was more emptiness. And other worlds.

She jumped as the drone appeared beside her, chirping insistently. "Please follow."

She glared at it. Machines shouldn't tell people what to do, even if they were polite. Ajenke ignored the little drone, content to observe the city from above, without drawing too close to the window. The last thing she wanted was to be tempted to look over the edge and faint.

"Please follow."

"Yan," she growled. Ajenke had seen her appointment and noticed she was early. And technically, she was the Mistress of the Midnight Blossom. People waited on _her_.

The drone clicked and whirred in what she could only assume was confusion. Or perhaps annoyance. _It's a machine, _she reminded herself. _It doesn't feel anything. _

Suddenly, slinky black tentacles sprouted from its circumference, curling and twisting into and elegant and intimidating black sun, its round, red eye contracting into an angry slit. The windows of the room dimmed, casting an unnatural purple twilight over the outside world. It hovered menacingly in front of her face, her skin tingling as she felt it probe her body.

"Who are you?"

Ajenke swallowed, steeling her emotions. This wasn't a drone that was talking to her. The mechanized voice on the other end was intelligent.

She raised her chin slightly, as if offended. "I am the Mistress of the Midnight Blossom."

"Do not lie. The Mistress is imprisoned within the bowels of the Star Tower. I ask again, who are you?"

A guttural hiss slipped through her fangs. "I am the heir to the Midnight Blossom and leader of the western sector! I am the Matron of the Midnight Swords and bow to no male! Who are _you?_"

The drone remained silent, hovering quietly, its tentacles slowly curling and uncurling in a hypnotic motion designed to distract and intimidate. Ajenke was too pissed to care. All she knew was there was a coward on the other end of the transmission and he'd accused her of lying. The gall.

"You speak the truth now. Interesting… Why have you come here, young Mistress?"

"Answer my question first."

"A representative of the Neyenthul's interests. That is all you need to know."

"I didn't hear a name."

"I didn't hear yours."

There a brief pause. He was sizing her up, just as she was, like two predators circling a meal. Her mother's reputation had gotten her this far, but now she was on her own.

"I must speak with Neyenthul."

"No one speaks with him unless invited. And you refused to follow the security drone. We have little reason to trust you."

Her temper flared and heat crept across the sides of her face. Goddess damn her stubbornness! Her childish desire to stare out of a sjauk'la window had possibly ruined her only chance of saving her mother. _Focus, _she told herself. She hadn't lost yet.

She subtly shifted her posture to emphasize her curves, relaxing her mandibles and letting the tension bleed from her face. Ajenke chittered. "My apologies. I have never been to the surface before and I couldn't resist the view. Your master's trading post is quite breathtaking."

It was the truth, and the drone would pick it up. She lowered her gaze and pretended to watch the undulating limbs of the drone.

The voice growled softly. "What assurances can you give that your intentions are honorable?"

Now was her chance. "Face me. I will tell you my request and you can relay it your master and let him decide."

"Very well." The red-eyed drone floated passed her, tentacles retracted. The windows lightened and Ajenke winced as the harsh light of midday flooded through.

"Still adjusting to the surface?" said a male as he exited the lift. He stopped a few arms length away, his body slightly turned towards her. She assumed he was the one she'd been speaking with moments prior. Silver bands and black leather decorated his body, an impressive crest sweeping from the sides of his scalp. Vibrant greens speckled his flesh, creating a natural camouflage suited for dense jungles.

"I have lived underground my entire life. I do not think I will ever completely adjust."

This earned a rough chitter of acknowledgement. "I have gone into the Tunnels once before. One time too many, in my opinion. The sky is my home," he said facing the windows. As the guest, she waited for him to continue. "So, what is it you are so desperate for Neyenthul to hear?"

"Desperate is a rather strong word."

"Your empire has suffered a serious blow and you, born in darkness, have fled to the surface. I would surmise the situation is dire indeed."

Ajenke gave him that one and pulled her shoulders together to make herself smaller. She hated being submissive but this male was her elder and she was at the mercy of his patience. She cleared her throat and went over the prepared lines she'd formed during her long walk to the guild fortress. "As you know, the Midnight Blossom created safe zones. The Mistress brought balance. Even though she hated the Shan, her power brought Kuuroch back into prosperity not seen for a generation since the war with the Shadow Stalkers."

"True, but you didn't come all this way just give me an economics lesson. What is your purpose for wanting to speak with Neyenthul? We made runs for your Mistress years ago, but then…" he suddenly looked uncomfortable. And irritated.

"Then?" Ajenke prodded.

"Young and foolish," he growled. "He's soft at heart when it comes to females. And your mother knew how to play him. Too well, unfortunately. He made repeated advances and one day she rejected him. Violently. She cut off all trade after that. Neyenthul never told me what happened."

Ajenke held back a growl. Her mother had returned from an important trade deal a few years ago and wanted to toss out every male in the district. Her matrons had calmed her, but she'd refused to admit Ajenke into her presence for days. Such things happened. Sometimes her mother pushed her away, telling her it shamed her to look at her, that she was a torment and wished she'd never been born. Other times, she'd keep her close and refused to let Ajenke out of her sight, telling her life wasn't worth living if she lost her.

Her rages were always brought on by males. She hated them. Could barely stand the sight of them, tolerating only those who were useful.

Neyenthul, whatever he'd done, had triggered one of her mother's episodes. Perfect. This was exactly the thing she did not need at the moment.

"The Mistress never spoke of this either."

He rattled and straightened his silver wrist bands. "The past is the past… if you make it worth my clan's time. What can the Sky Runners do for you, young Mistress? We have abundant connections. Spices, machine parts, silk. Whatever you need to rebuild, provided you have the credit necessary."

"Credit won't be a problem," she chittered softly. "But this isn't for the Midnight Blossom. Not directly anyway."

His eyes narrowed and he faced her.

"The mission is dangerous, some may die and there's a high probability we'll fail."

"Trading's always a gamble," he growled, eyes narrowing.

"This isn't a trade. This is a contract. I want the Sky Runners, the _real _Sky Runners, to save the Mistress before the Shan executes her."

Shock filled the male's face and his mandibles twitched. "This— this is madness."

"I know—"

"She'll be executed in broad daylight."

"Saa, but—"

"The entire _city _will be watching!" He chopped the air with hand dismissively. "No amount of credit would restore our clan. We would be wiped from the face of the world and our guild rights given to one of those money mongering Sharp Tusks or Crimson Fists!"

Anger swelled inside her and Ajenke took a step forward. "The Sky Runners are the only ones who can help me! I heard you were the best."

A guttural growl rippled from the guild master. "I will not risk the life of my son or clan members on a doomed female."

Her mother's words whispered in her mind. _Now, you understand why males are not to be trusted._ She wanted to curse him. Tell him he was wrong, that he was a coward. Ajenke started to growl, but the words wouldn't come out. One look into the elder's hard eyes and she deflated.

He was right.

She turned and watched the ships pass below. Thunderclouds were beginning to roll over the mountains in the north, tongues of lightning dancing along the ground. "You're right. I had just hoped that… I couldn't let her go without trying."

She could feel the probe observing her. "You haven't been completely honest with me, young Mistress."

The accusation hung in the air. He was sharper than she cared to admit. "What does it matter? I thought your answer was no?"

"It is. But Neyenthul is the leader of Sky Runners. He will make the ultimate decision on whether or not they will accept your contract."

Ajenke growled. More false hope. "This mission is personal. The Mistress… she's my mother."

"Mother?" she could hear the surprise in his voice. Suddenly, his hand was on her shoulder and Ajenke nearly flinched at such an intimate gesture. "Let go of her. Focus on preserving the Midnight Blossom and maintaining the balance. I will send you Neyenthul's answer when he decides."

She nodded and moved towards the lift, suddenly exhausted. Two days of travel. No food and hardly any water. The ride down was a blur. Traders crowded the lower levels and stairwells and she moved through them slowly, eyes to the floor.

The sides of her head ached and her stomach twisted into knots, growling. As twilight approached, rain drops pelted her burnt skin and soaked her clothes. Thunder roared above and she took shelter in a park, curling up under a wide limbed tree. She did what she'd seen Ahandra do sometimes when she thought she was alone. She let the pain through. It lanced through her eyes and forehead, slowly carving through her cheeks and chest, heat slowly leeching from her tresses. Ajenke hugged herself and whimpered, rasping as the pain grew until she couldn't hold it in anymore, crying out wordlessly into the darkness.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! I don't know why, but I struggled with this chapter. Maybe because it was so depressing...

I want to work on it more but it was dragging and I _really _want to work on the next few chapters :) Evil plans hatching, prophecy coming to pass, tragic love - I'm so excited!


	29. Assassin

**About three months later...**

* * *

**Assassin**

* * *

The vessel streaked through the sky, engines roaring as Hetarrak pushed it for speed, slamming into the back of seat as he pulled up. His pursuers raced after him, fanged prows snapping at his heels. Hetarrak twisted and swung low, wings nearly grazing the canopy tops as he banked a hard right. The computer screamed in warning as enemy systems tried to lock onto his vessel. He reversed engine power and spun, diving into a gaping canyon, plasma blasts exploding above him.

"Shit," Hetarrak breathed. Adrenaline flushed his veins and sent pricks of exhilaration over his skin. A river of roiling lava rushed to meet them and the hunters had pulled back, expecting him to pull up at the last second and lead them through the canyon, his computer shrieking in warning as they tracked his ship. Hetarrak switched off the annoying machine and smirked. He was the best pilot in Kuuroch. Like hell he'd lose to a couple of logic processors.

With lightning reflexes, he reversed both engines and engaged the sub-warp drive. Hetarrak slammed forward, the restraint harness biting into his skin as the craft shot upwards, streaking out of the canyon like a meteorite into the tangerine sky. G-forces crushed his shoulders and head and he could barely move his arms. Black spots danced across his vision.

The engines suddenly sputtered and the lights flickered. Hetarrak gasped for air as the pressure disappeared, the craft suspended above the clouds for a silent moment. He floated in his seat, desperately trying to patch into the ship's A.I. to manufacture repairs.

His stomach jumped into throat as the vessel plunged back towards the planet, slowly tumbling end over end.

Hetarrak fought for control, cursing the warning klaxons screaming for his attentions. "Flush engines with emergency coolant and engage bypass systems to jumpstart main converters!" he yelled as he snapped switches. The machine beeped in acknowledgement. _Sjauk'la outdated machinery worth less than gor'ja guts_—

The engines suddenly roared to life.

Hetarrak whooped and pulled out the death spiral, aiming for the main city in the distance, his pursuers still scrambling to catch up to him.

Weaving around towering skyscrapers, he reflexively dodged heavy freighters and personal craft, ignoring the data displays and sensor readings. One glance at those and his blood would be painting the side of a building. The hunters tore after him with a vengeance but they wouldn't risk firing shots in the middle of the city. He hoped.

Hetarrak tapped into the ship's comm, hoping Auran and I'aquin had both made it to the alternate pick-up point. The last time he'd been in contact with his friends was when Auran had called him up. He'd been out of breath as he'd explained they had been caught and had to eliminate all of the guards. "Auran? Auran are you there?"

"Saa. What's taking you so long?"

"Someone tracked our comm signals. I had to run for it. Did you make it to the new rendezvous point?"

"Saa, but I don't know how you're going to land. The ledge is practically crumbling."

Hetarrak cursed and spun as the lead ship fired a shot, the fiery plasma bolt scraping the ship's armor.

"Hetarrak? What's going on?"

More ships were joining the chase. Hetarrak released several missiles, the silver spheres shooting from the back of his vessel, flaring into wide, metal nets coruscating with purple energy, the ends bristling with hooks and barbs. The hunters scattered. One ship flew straight into a net's embrace, its lights dying as the targeted EMP device fried the ship's computer. It fell silently to the ground. Another net latched onto a ship's engine. It sputtered and died, sending the vessel into a wild death spiral. The craft smashed into a building before crashing into the streets below.

"Hetarrak?"

"What?!" Plasma blasts poured from the four remaining ships. Hetarrak punched it, trying to put as much distance between them and himself as possible.

"Is that you?"

"Shit!" Hetarrak shouted as a plasma missile grazed the hull. "One of these guys is a really good shot!"

"Your side engine's on fire," Auran said flatly. Hetarrak could hear the dead-panned look in his tone, something Auran did whenever he thought something was unnecessary. Or stupid.

"Yak'sallah! She's fine!" Hetarrak set the smoking engine as the A.I.'s top priority. He could hear I'aquin slurrily ask what was going on. "What the hell's wrong with I'aquin?"

"He's wounded."

Hetarrak huffed. Sometimes it irritated him how dense everyone thought he was. "You get the sword?" he growled

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

Hetarrak engaged the inertial dampeners and he slammed forward, dragging and twisting the controls back as he spun into a tight back flip. The hunters streaked passed him, caught off guard by the maneuver. "I'm on my way. When I say jump, jump."

Auran cursed. "What do you mean _jump_?"

"Fak'sha chetharrin! If I stop we're dead! When I say jump, jump!"

"Shit, you're serious…"

Sweat trickled over Hetarrak's hot skin, his muscles tensing as his tracking systems locked onto his friends. They stood on the ledge of a ziggurat overgrown with vines and jungle flora, I'aquin barely able to stand on his own. Ships were closing in on him ahead and behind in an attempt to take him down in a crossfire.

"Jump!"

The pair leapt off the ledge, Auran wrapping around I'aquin's limp form. Hetarrak twisted and dived after them. The belly of the ship rushed past their tumbling bodies, the hatch yawning open beneath them. Auran tried to orient him and I'aquin towards the door. Sensors screamed as ships locked onto him. The jungle below rushed up to meet them. He slowed the vessel a fraction and the pair were sucked in. He wincied as their bodies smashed into the wall. Hetarrak sealed the hatch and pulled up hard, tree tops snapping as the ship grazed the jungle canopy. Plasma bolts ripped the air around them, concussive blasts denting the hull. Warning klaxons shrieked as a bolt smashed into the top of the craft, damaging a back engine and destroying the rear sensors.

Hetarrak cursed. He was flying half blind, unable to track the ships behind him. He engaged the sub-warp drive, blasting up and away. The ship pierced the upper atmosphere, the roars of the engines fading as they slipped into the void. Hetarrak diverted power to the shields, the planet's rocky ring looming ahead. Tapping into the security system, he pulled a holoscreen of the med bay up. Auran had dragged the unconscious I'aquin onto an operating slab. A large gash had been torn across his abdomen and fused flesh was the only thing keeping his left arm attached to his torso, a charred gaping hole where his shoulder used to be.. The medical sensor readings appeared and he tensed. I'aquin's heart had stopped. Auran was frantically trying to revive him. The Hidden Dagger was going to be pissed if he lived. He'd owe his life to Auran. Again.

He flipped on the intercom. "Auran, secure I'aquin. It's going to get rough before we can make a jump." Hetarrak didn't wait for confirmation, pushing the hologram aside. As instructed, the A.I. had released several decoy beacons to distract the planetary defense drones.

Crimson lasers lit up the void as the guns sought the quick moving decoys. Hetarrak punched it, spiraling forward. Energy beams rocked the ship, bombarding the shields. The craft shuddered and groaned. Hetarrak opened fire, taking out two cannons as he blasted over the swirling ring. One by one, the beacons sigils darkened until they were all destroyed. But the trick had worked.

The craft broke past the ring, hurtling towards the edge of the system, shields heavily damaged but intact. A hundred ships could be after them. He couldn't know, which meant they needed to jump as soon as possible. He laid in the coordinates, trying to stay focused.

A sense of confusion filled Hetarrak as he pulled up a holoscreen and watched Auran try to shock I'aquin's systems back to life. Auran had saved his life during their chiva. The Shadow Stalker was strange like that, always trying to save others when they didn't want his help. He'd never admitted it but he'd been hoping to be killed and save his family any further shame he'd bring if he survived. He was clumsy, oblivious to his surroundings most of the time and had never won a single combat match in his life. But Auran had pushed him through the mayhem of the battle, shouting orders and fighting with a grace Hetarrak had never seen. How could he give up when the Shadow Stalker, who had no clan and no honor, fought with such ferocity and defiance? And yet, the sting of his father's words, so full of hate and disappointment after he'd returned from the battlefield, still echoed in his mind. _You should've died with what little honor you had rather than owe your life to that sekfet. You are not my son. _They hadn't seen each other since. Now, like Auran, he was close to redeeming his honor and perhaps gaining some measure of recognition for his skills as a pilot.

White noise surrounded the ship and space began to warp, the ships engines humming as they gathered energy. Relief filled him as I'aquin's pulse returned. It was faint, but steady. Once the ship had successfully transferred, he'd go and help—

Proximity warning sigils caught his attention and klaxons screamed as sickening crunch shivered through the hull. Horror filled him as the damage report flashed across the screen.

The ship had been punctured. Something had latched onto their starboard side.

A violent jerk snapped the ship and threw Hetarrak forward. Wind howled as it was sucked into the void, the doors automatically sealing shut. The hull groaned, trembling violently, the white noise of sub-space growing into a painful shriek. Hetarrak couldn't find his mask. Nausea gripped him as the room spun and alien colors swirled across his vision. All sound was sucked away as the ship jumped and Hetarrak slumped against his chair as pain overwhelmed him.

* * *

**;-' \', -'/**

* * *

Tyler opened her eyes. Something was coming.

The female warrior had gone scouting. She wasn't sure how she knew this but she did. Just as she knew something or someone was coming for her.

The alien had left her in one of the rooms of the great tower at the center of the city. Skeletons littered the hallways outside, some ripped apart or crushed. They all looked like the female, but wrong somehow. Twisted.

She stayed put and studied the silver and obsidian carvings adorning the wall, compelled to try and make sense of it. They told a familiar story, but she couldn't place where she'd heard of it before. It was two stories in one; each started on the opposite side at one end of the room and then met in the middle. One told the story of a great warrior, fierce and strong, while the other followed a smaller warrior, who preferred to hunt in the shadows. When they finally met in battle, the smaller warrior had managed to mortally wound the stronger warrior. But as his enemy lay dying at his feet the smaller had warrior stabbed himself in the heart. Tyler squinted and stepped forward for a closer look. No. _She _had stabbed herself in the heart.

The ending, while tragic, left her with many questions. Why did the two aliens want to kill each other? Was it out of pride? Or revenge? But then why kill herself if she hated her opponent? She looked over at the male's wall. Tyler could see nothing evil depicted on them. The two had never even met until the end. Tyler eventually concluded that the artist had assumed his audience knew the details of the story and had simply created the piece to show off his artistic skills.

_The deep bond is a curse only fools seek._

The strange thought made her pause. She wracked her brain, trying to recall where she'd heard that. All she could think of was Ahandra.

Tyler blinked. Ahandra. The alien female. The name felt right, familiar even. She shivered and hugged herself, suddenly cold. The thing was getting closer. A sibilant hiss pulled her from her observations and she hugged herself tighter, her breath coalescing into translucent clouds. A shadow moved in the doorway and Tyler froze.

"Ahandra," it hissed, stepping into the gray twilight of the room.

Its reddish-black skin glistened with a wet sheen, twisted spikes sprouting from its back. Four glowing red eyes burned from deep within its skull, an impressive crest fanning from its forehead. It was like the twisted dead aliens out in the hallway, except larger. The dark creature approached her with a serpentine grace, its tail flowing behind it. A wickedly curved blade was attached to the end.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She shivered as the temperature of the room plummeted, frost beginning to cling to the walls and floor.

It lowered its face to her level, letting her study it in all of its horrifying glory. Tyler stared at the thin, finger-like appendages clamped over its mouth, morbidly wondering how many teeth the twitching appendages were hiding. She stiffened as they began to move and spread apart, three inch long hooks pushing from the fleshy tubes. A guttural growl rolled up its long throat, its drool covered mandibles flaring slightly as it spoke. "Ahandra."

Her teeth chattered and she was trembling violently. It was so cold. "I-I am n-not Ahandra."

"Ahandra." Its growl was louder, more insistent.

"She's not here." Anger flushed through her at how afraid she sounded. The creature roared and Tyler fell back with a cry. The creature crouched over her, tail twitching back and forth in agitation as it regarded her balled up form. She could feel her clothes sticking to the frozen floor. Her body was starting to go numb.

"It is time to wake up."

Tyler screamed as it lunged.

* * *

**/,- |\' ,'-**

* * *

Her eyes snapped open and she sat up, her heavy breathing the only sound. Ahandra glanced around the room, freezing as she caught sight of the figure watching her from the doorway. "Captain Tcharr," she breathed, goosebumps prickling over her skin. "What are you doing here?"

"I am to escort you to the Iron Towers."

"Why?"

"You'll find out when you arrive," he clicked, his stern gaze indicating that he was done discussing the matter. A young female slipped into the room and knelt by the bed, arms proffered to accept Seinu. Ahandra hesitated, looking to the captain, his face an impassive mask. The captain would take her baby by force if necessary to ensure compliance. He'd done it before. She gently handed him over to the aseinan, threitak slowly rising inside her chest, warming and focusing her body. The captain rumbled as the female slipped out with the infant. "If you continue to cooperate, this will be over quickly."

"Why are you taking me to the great library?" Ahandra growled as she stood, trying to mask her exhaustion. When she wasn't caring for Seinu, she was dreaming. The nightmares had become increasingly frequent. Ruined cities. Twisted bodies. Demons stalking her in the darkness. The twisted yautja that had spoken to her was a new addition. Ahandra knew that whenever the nightmare changed it meant something important had happened or was about to happen.

Captain Tcharr ignored her and ordered two of his retinue to escort them to the waiting transport. They moved quickly in the darkness, the light of Sa'arezan and her ring filtering through the pillars and open courtyards, meteorites flashing across the violet sky.

The transport silently took off from the landing platform once she was aboard, the captain and his guards staying behind. Ahandra took a seat, wondering why they had left her alone and what lay in store for her. Auran had gone to the Iron Towers to learn about his people, the Shadow Stalkers. When he'd returned, they'd barely had time to embrace, let alone explain everything that had happened.

Her thoughts turned to the enigmatic captain. Tcharr had orchestrated the fall of the Midnight Blossom and taken over leadership of one of the legions after Dralus had been killed during the battle. He was popular with the younger and stronger warriors for his cunning and skill. She shivered as she recalled the moment he'd touched her during the siege. She'd seen his thoughts, felt his emotions. He was a cold and ruthless killer, an assassin of the highest caliber. Tcharr had been tasked with watching Auran, but failed after Auran had disappeared into the Tunnels and he'd lost the trail. The captain's resolve to never fail again frightened her. There was a fanaticism to his mind, a resolve to do whatever necessary. To what end, she wasn't sure. Somehow, he was connected to the Iron Towers and the Shadow Stalkers. Tcharr was no fool. He would have known she'd see some sort of connection between his memories and the library. Which meant he was confident in his ability to keep her silent or he didn't expect her to return to the Star Tower. God, she'd left her son with that cold bastard.

The craft landed with a soft bump and the hatch whirred open. The pilot said nothing, staring straight ahead. She didn't bother asking questions and exited down the ramp.

Her suspicions appeared confirmed as the ship sealed its doors and took off. _Run_, said a voice in her head as she watched the bright light of its engines fade into the distance. Ahandra looked for a way out, but the only obvious path, the bridge, had been retracted. Based on their elevation, the Iron Towers had been built into the side of a mountain, which meant the only way out was located somewhere inside temple-like structure behind her.

Out of the corner of her eye she spied movement and spun, ready to face whatever threat the captain had thrown her way.

Drones floated towards her. Ahandra stiffened at the sight of them, the machines made of yautja skulls covered in metal plating and glowing red wires. They swirled around her, their lifeless faces clicking for her to follow. She took a deep breath, weighing the chances of escaping. Someone was expecting her and likely watching her every move. And she had no knowledge of any other exit off the mountain. She took one last look behind her.

Kuuroch was burning. Flaming ruins of great ships tumbled to the earth. The Star Tower was blackened by an ocean of flames. Several skyscrapers collapsed, sending massive plumes of ash and debris across the land. A red haze blanketed the air beneath the sky choked with black smoke, as if Hell itself had descended upon the land.

Ahandra's hearts hammered in her chest as she tore her gaze away from the sight. She was awake… wasn't she?

A skull drone's warble startled her. She glanced back again, clenching her hands to keep them from shaking. Kuuroch slept peacefully, the lights of cargo ships and personal transports winking slowly across the night sky, a cool breeze flowing from the south. Ahandra followed the drones and dare not look back for fear of what else she might see.

The skull drones guided her through a labyrinthine library of astounding beauty and scope. However, there was a noticeable covering of dust over many shelves and disorganized stacks of holoscrolls and datapads dotted the floors and tables. Except for the whirring of the drones and her soft footsteps, there was no one else lurking about the halls.

The drones took her towards the back, winding through the shelves, chirping when they paused in front of a bare wall. Another click and they slipped through the wall as if it were made of air. Ahandra stared. A secret tunnel. She stepped through before she could think, the energy field sending pricks across her skin. Get in, get out, get to Seinu. That was the plan. Ahandra clung to the thought of her son, warm and safe. He'd grown so much, she couldn't believe it had been three months since he'd been born.

Ahandra suddenly slipped and caught herself, her eyes widening in shock and a shiver of fear ran up her spine. She slowly stood upright, taking in the horrifying sight. The stairwell was covered in black slime and webbed tubes… just like the labyrinth from her nightmares. Four red eyes stared up at her, bobbing up the down at the bottom of the stairwell, the mechanized skulls patiently waiting. She clenched her fists and pressed forward, slowly following the skull drones through the steamy tunnels dripping with black ichor, doing her best to ignore the mangled bodies glued to the walls, mouths agape in horror and pain. The dark hallways were covered in soft, fleshy carpets and webs of slime that brushed her arms and shoulders, sending shivers of disgust through her body. The stench of death and despair lingered like an invisible fog, the warmth of threitak the only thing keeping her focused and moving. A part of her wanted to run. There was a monster at the center of the maze and it wanted to kill her. She'd dreamed of this thousand times. Mechanically, she put one foot in front of the other, focusing on the glowing bobs of light ahead of her.

After what felt like an eternity, the skull drones suddenly floated through a large set of doors made of ribbed veins that squelched and gurgled as they split apart. She followed, her hearts thundering in fear and anger as she prepared to face whatever lay at the center of the maze.

Several unfamiliar yautja bristling with weapons and elaborate armor stood about the normal looking room, their faces covered with gruesome masks. The octagonal room with filled with shelves stuffed with neatly arranged scrolls and datapads. Ahandra glanced behind her. A perfectly normal metal door contracted and sealed shut with a hiss.

One of the males approached her. Unlike the others, his mask was smooth and his hair was covered in a hooded cloak. "Welcome to the Iron Towers," he rumbled. "I am Natharrak, the Master."

* * *

**-; \|/ ',**

* * *

He gestured at a cushioned stool placed in front of his desk. Trance-like, she sat. The masked man had transformed. Black bones wreathed in flames consumed his flesh. He stood in a pool of blood, fresh gore dripping from his claws and mouth.

"You're on fire," she whispered, her head throbbing as he drew near. She could feel the heat of the flames as they licked the air. Howling faces flickered within the fires, writhing in torment.

Someone grabbed her wrist and she snapped back to reality. A pockmarked yautja with two different colored eyes grinned down at her. She looked down in time to see him slice a blade across her palm. She roared in pain and threw him off her as she stood. The small male cowered on the floor. Weapons unsheathed all around her and she snarled at the warriors, daring them to strike.

At some unseen gesture, the guards lowered their weapons, but she could sense their readiness to kill. Natharrak turned back to her. "Ahandra—"

Her sharp growl cut him off. "What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?!" The stench of tension filled the air. Natharrak ordered they be left alone and the warriors reluctantly withdrew from the room. He sat and pushed a book across the table towards her.

"What's this?" she hissed, staring down at the gem encrusted cover, the strange symbols carved into the metal filigree dancing in the firelight of the torches. "If you need me to read something, I'm afraid you're wasting your time. I cannot read."

"I know."

"Then why bring me here? And why did that male attack me?" she growled angrily, holding up her slit palm, blood still flowing from the bright wound. The male called Nadurak was hunched over in a corner, wringing his hands and staring at the floor.

Natharrak was relaxed, but she could not forget the terrible image she'd seen, the hungry flames licking his blackened bones as he stood in a pool of blood. Her head was throbbing and the pain was growing worse by the minute.

"I need your help, Ahandra. Your blood is the key to opening this book." He pushed it forward again, grazing her fingertips. She pulled back, her eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"

He emitted a soft laugh from behind his mask. "Do you know what being a thras'ka means?"

The question caught her off guard and she thought for a moment. "I'm not sure," she finally admitted, eyes narrowing.

"The literal translation is 'shifter', but what it implies is that a person is transformed into another person, or a part of a person. For instance, you could alter your face, your blood type… even your mind. If you're strong enough to withstand the terrible pain," he rumbled, his voice deep and strong. "You're an amazing specimen, Ahandra. Very few have ever survived a complete transformation."

"What does me being a thras'ka have to do with why you brought me here?"

"You wear the body of Iseneth, once kai of Kuuroch. Because of this, your blood is the same as hers." He paused, gesturing towards the book. "Only a kai's blood can open the book."

"Is that why he cut me?" Ahandra growled, indicating the whimpering male in the corner with a jerk of her head.

"Forgive Nadurak. He is too eager to please me sometimes." A low growl of warning laced his words and she heard the small male whimper. Natharrak leaned forward and gently pushed the book towards her until it was nearly touching her fingertips again. "Simply press your hand against its cover and you will be free to go."

She hesitated. A simple request. But she felt there was something he wasn't telling her. What sort of book needed blood to open it? And why not ask Asharah? "I don't know if I should…"

The vision of him on fire overlapped with reality, a black skull grinning back at her as bloody gore dripped from its mouth. When the Natharrak spoke, it spoke.

"Please, I need your help." _I need your blood._

"Your blood is Iseneth's, it is the key to opening this book."_ Iseneth the Witch's blood flows through your veins. Give it to me._

Ahandra slowly backed away, squeezing her blood-caked hand shut. "What's in that book?"

"Lost knowledge. A way to help my people." _The Prophecy. It will tell me how to destroy Kuuroch._ The visage burned brighter and Ahandra could smell the male's anger growing. Darts of pain seared her skull and she struggled to keep upright.

"You're lying," she managed to growl.

He rose and Ahandra felt a hot wind swirl around her, the visage's eyes burning white. "Do not go against me, Iseneth. The time draws near and I will have your blood… even if it means killing you again." The blackened skull laughed and pain exploded at the base of her brain.

She stumbled back as he reached for her, the room spinning. "Don't touch me!" she cried out. Nadurak tried to grab her from behind, but a solid punch sent him squealing to the floor. Ahandra ran for the door, but Natharrak was quicker. He grabbed her tendrils and dragged her to the ground. She screamed in pain as he wrestled her to the ground, pinning her arms with his knees and grabbing her by the throat, his touch like hot coals.

_Know my agony_! the visage roared.

Hatred and rage burned through her, boiling her organs and flaying her skin until nothing remained. An explosion rocked their home and she fell, stunned by the blast. Her brothers, still standing, were cut down in a hail of shuriken. Those still left alive were hacked to death by swords. She pretended to be dead, laying amongst the bodies and rubble. She listened as her mother was raped over and over, then gutted, her unborn brother spilling from her mother's womb in a rush of water and blood. Thunder shook N'tharralis. The siege lasted days. She could hear warriors howling with bloodlust clashing throughout the tunnels. She searched for her father, but everyone was dead. Dead and rotting. She wandered the city and found others, both older and younger. When the food ran out, they fed on rats, worms and whatever else crawled in the depths. They learned secrets, learned to hate the sun above. The sun dwellers would pay for what they had done. Kuuroch would burn, just as N'tharralis had. She took the body of a pure blood named Taqar and achieved a place of power and influence amongst the corrupt bureaucrats of Kuuroch. She had a plan. She wou—

The vision ripped away as Natharrak let go and stumbled bacvk, panting heavily behind his silver mask. Ahandra's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she choked with anger and pain as she lay on the floor. The Thousand Blades had destroyed N'tharralis, she knew this. But to see it, to feel it… he'd been so young. Too young to see such things, to be filled with such… hate.

"I see you still retain your gifts, Iseneth," he rumbled. His hands were shaking.

She gasped, trying in vain to sit up, pain throbbing through her entire body. The room was once again transformed into the center of the labyrinth, dark walls oozing black ichor, piles of bones scattered about the chamber.

Natharrak slowly unlatched his mask, revealing his youthful, yet hard features. He was striking, an aura of confidence and intelligence radiated from him. If not for the bloodlust that filled his soul, she would've found him attractive. He knelt beside her, book in hand. She was too weak to resist, groaning as he sliced through her other palm, revulsion filling her as his hate and thoughts bleed into her mind. He pressed her hand against the jeweled cover, rumbling with pleasure as the intricate locks of the book unfolded. "Ak'nandei. You have given me the final piece needed before I unleash my army. Once I know the Prophecy, I will know how to stop Asharah."

"Don't do it," she rasped.

He gave her cold look. "It is far, far too late to turn back. I want this. It's all I've lived for. My kinsmen and I will finally have vengeance and our ancestors can rest in peace."

Ahandra squeezed her bleeding hand, desperately trying to use the pain to focus. With a rough hand, Natharrak grabbed her by the neck and dragged her to her knees. He passed the book to a groveling Nadurak, who clutched it protectively to his chest. "Shall I find the information you seek?"

Natharrak nodded, not bothering to watch his assistant as he scuttled out of the room. The male's hate burned her throat, spreading fire into her lungs that grew with every gasped breath.

"You lack the control of your previous self. I can see into your mind as well. You are a fascinating creature, and I will regret wasting such a valuable research subject. But you know too much and there is no point in further study when all life is about to cease to exist," he rumbled, unsheathing a long knife from his hip. She felt lightheaded, her thoughts becoming muddled as Natharrak's will beginning to overcome her own. What was the point in resisting when everyone was going to die? He let go of her throat, lightly caressing her shoulder as he walked behind her. The cold steel of the blade pressed against her throat and his hand gently pulled her head back, exposing her neck. She just wanted to sleep. She was so tired...

A blaze of light exploded around them and Natharrak cried out as he was thrown against the wall. A young male with golden eyes and snow white tendrils pulled Ahandra to her feet. "Run!" he ordered, pushing her towards the door.

"Who are you?" The haze that had swallowed her mind was gone for a moment. She stared at the male, covered in glittering armor, a long cape flowing behind him. He held a golden spear in his right hand.

"If all goes well, you will not need to know that. Now go!" He pushed her towards the door again. The sight of an enraged Natharrak scrambling to his feet was all the motivation she needed. She bolted through the door, sprinting down metal passageways and ducking in to narrow corridors, his roar echoing throughout the underground complex. The glowing stranger who'd saved her life was nowhere to be found and she wondered for a moment if she hadn't been hallucinating.

Natharrak's enraged roars faded, but now she was faced with a new problem: she was lost and from what she could sense, going down rather than up. Her head was pounding again, but now that she was away from Natharrak she felt a little bit better. Shouts were coming her way and she needed to hide. She quickly ran down a flight of stairs and through a pair of sliding doors.

Ahandra stumbled to her knees and wretched, pain, despair and an animalistic hunger wrenching through her with gut-churning force. She struggled to her feet, desperately trying to catch her breath, the aura of confusion and fear disorienting and she couldn't believe she hadn't sensed it before she'd entered the room. Ahandra looked around and realized she was on a railing-less walkway hovering above a glass ceiling. Data monitors and drones whirred about the room, ignoring her presence. The aura was coming from the darkness beneath the platform. She could see nothing, but she could feel a hundred eyes watching her every move, the depth of their hunger rivaling that of Natharrak's hatred.

Lights flickered on along the shadowed walls, revealing cylindrical containers. As more of the orange glowing tubes lit up, Ahandra's horror grew. Children lay slumped within them. Some were crying. Others were bashing the windows with their fists at her, silently yelling. But what terrified her most were the horrifying growths sprouting from their bodies. One was covered in gnarled spikes. Others possessed four arms, their legs bent backwards. One stared at her without a face, bulbous tumors protruding from his head. Just like the vision she'd seen in Tcharr's mind.

"What are you doing here?"

Ahandra whirled. A male with grey dreadlocks stepped through the sliding doors, his stern eyes filled with confusion and anger. "You should not be here."

She ran towards the center of the chamber, her rapid footfalls pounding the metal grate beneath her. A sharp whistling was her only warning before her feet were entangled, throwing her to the ground. The male was on top of her in an instant, his blade pressed against her throat. "Don't move," he growled.

She growled back but lay still. Strangely, she did not feel hate from this Shadow Stalker, as she had when Tcharr and Natharrak had touched her. Instead she felt confusion… and fear. The image of Auran surfaced, clad in the black armor and cape he'd worn the last time she'd seen him. There was something else. A faint glimmer of emotion, so fragile… that one wrong word and it would be smothered forever.

"I ask again, what are you doing here?"

"I didn't choose to come here," she hissed as she absorbed the male's natural calm and his clinical ability to analyze a situation. He was an assassin as well, but he took no pleasure in death. It was an empty pursuit, just like everything else. Soon, he would join the dead and be free of the suffering of reality and knowledge that the future was a meaningless dream. His words pulled her from his subconscious.

The male rumbled angrily. "That doesn't explain what you're doing in the laboratory."

She said nothing.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his mask beeped. He growled and put it on. "What?"

She could just make out what was being said.

_"There is a female loose in the complex. Kill her on sight. These are orders from Natharrak himself." _He stared down at her, his mask concealing his face. She could sense his mind weighing the most logical options, selecting the best path. He would execute his choice with precision and efficiency.

"Acknowledged."

This was her last chance. If she could sense another person's emotions and memories then maybe it worked the other way too. She closed her eyes and attempted to concentrate, but the proximity of death and her captor's emotionless clam made her panic. The memories were a chaotic jumble. The last time she saw Auran. Seinu's first smile. The first time she'd laid eyes on Ashann. Sonya playing baseball in her wheelchair. Shooting a child running at her with an assault rifle.

The male jerked away growling. She groaned, the loss of contact sending shards of pain through her mind. When she opened her eyes he was standing over her, knife sheathed and mask clipped to his belt. She slowly sat up in confusion, unsure how much time had passed. "You aren't going to kill me?" The chain that had ensnared her ankles had also been removed. "Why not?"

"You are Ahandra."

"Saa."

His gaze softened a fraction. "I spared you because you are Auran's bondmate and because…" he struggled to find the words. "Because that young fool has brought hope to this old fool's heart." He helped her up. "I was your bondmate's master and I trained him. I thought I was teaching him what it meant to be a Shadow Stalker, but now I realize he was teaching me. For the first time I feel…" Again he struggled to speak, eventually falling into silence.

Ahandra gazed around the room at the large test tubes filled with children, their despair filling her with a helpless rage. "This laboratory… why are you doing this? They're… they're just children," she breathed, glaring at him.

"Now is not the time for explanations. My brothers will be looking for you and will not hesitate as I have."

Ahandra growled. She had no choice. "Can I at least know your name before I trust you?"

"Harsan."

As they ran, the pain and hunger faded from her mind, but she would never forget the sight of those children, warped and twisted as part of some horrible experiment. Natharrak was one sick bastard and he was going to pay for what he'd done.

Harsan led the way, easily navigating the winding paths of the darkened halls. She sensed they were heading up, but not in the direction she had come from. Every once in a while he would pause, or push her through a door. Then they would move on.

"Why are there so many passages?" she whispered when the warrior paused again.

"Most of them are merely decoys to confuse enemy invaders. It was also designed in homage to N'tharralis, our home."

"How much farther?"

"We're close."

"Why haven't we heard any signs of pursuit? Is that why you keep stopping?"

"Yan. It's because I sense my brothers nearby."

"I didn't hear anyone."

"Sharin'atharr don't make noise when we stalk our prey," he clicked softly, then gestured for her to be silent and continued forward

Just when she thought the maze and darkness would never end, they slipped through another false wall and entered into an open landing area behind the library. Sa'arezan had set and the golden crescent of Asjatar, the largest of the three moons, was rising. Dawn was close.

"Go to the nearest vessel," ordered Harsan, unsheathing his sword.

"What's wrong?"

A warrior burst through the invisible wall, twin blades in his hands. He ran straight for her, ignoring Harsan completely. Ahandra bolted, the clash of blades ringing out. She clambered up into the small craft and watched the fight from the cockpit. The dark warrior ducked and twisted out of the way, still trying to get to the ship. Harsan grabbed him by the armor and punched him with the pommel of his sword. He had his attention now.

Karakan slashed his swords in the shape of 'X'. Bright blood glittered in the darkness, multiple cuts appearing across Harsan's abdomen and thighs. The pair fought with a speed and grace that was entrancing. Neither gave ground, continuing encircling in a deadly dance that drew closer and closer to a final conclusion. Ahandra tore herself away from the battle, desperately rummaging through the ship's compartments for any sort of weapon. The pair appeared evenly matched and if Harsan couldn't finish Karakan quickly, he would be overwhelmed by reinforcements and they would both be killed.

She warbled in exultation as she pulled out a plasma rifle from a top shelf and ducked outside. Ahandra initiated the charge sequence and took aim. She hesitated. Karakan had slumped to his knees and blood was pouring from the two stumps where his arms used to be. Before she could blink, the warrior's head tumbled to the ground and his body collapsed. Blood dripped from Harsan's sword. She remembered to breath. She hadn't even seen the sword when he'd struck.

She lowered the gun, slightly relieved. Her rescuer probably wouldn't have wanted her to interfere.

They quickly boarded the craft and took off, plasma blasts streaking harmlessly after them from Shadow Stalkers as they poured from the library, seconds too late.

Ahandra leaned back and heaved a sigh of relief. A sudden bank to the right made her sit up. "Where are you going? My son is in the Star Tower to the south. Tcharr will kill him if we don't hurry."

"His name is Jalan. And he will not kill your son. He is a Shadow Stalker by blood and we would never order the death of one of our own."

"What about you?"

"I have spilt N'tharralin blood. I am no longer part of the clan."

"I'm sorry.

The older warrior said nothing, his face as impassive as when she first met him. She could see the stoic resemblance between him and Auran. Her bondmate had always had a brooding quality about him that she'd at first assumed had been due to a sullen and cold nature. Now she realized that was simply his default expression and he could actually be happy while still frowning. She'd teased him about it every once in a while.

"Well, if we're not going to the Star Tower, where _are_ we going?"

"The High Temple. The kai can help us better than the Thousand Blades."

The temple came into view at that moment, the pale ziggurat surrounded by a huge swathe of jungle, the darkness at odds with the glowing city to the southeast. Harsan gently set the craft down on a landing port. Thankfully, there were no guards present, just sentries perched above the doors.

The greying warrior climbed out first, scanning the area. "Hmm…" he rumbled.

"What's wrong?"

He said nothing, striding forward. Ahandra quickly caught up. "Do you know where you're going?"

Harsan led her down a side corridor to avoid several acolytes performing their morning vigil and prayers. Ahandra tried to keep focused and avoid staring at the elaborate sculptures and wall carvings, but the task proved almost impossible, as nearly every square inch was covered in either writing or beautiful artwork. The awesome scope of the temple seemed lost on Harsan, who moved quickly through the complex, as if he knew the exact layout. She didn't put it past him. He was an assassin after all. Asharah was an enemy of the Shadow Stalkers. They had likely mapped out the temple and committed it to memory just in case the order came to taker her out. Just like Iseneth.

Harsan paused in front a set of ornate doors, cocking his head to listen. Muffled shouting could be heard through the stone. He clipped on his mask, huffing after scanning for a few seconds.

"What?"

"The kai has guests."

When no more information was forthcoming, she rumbled impatiently. When he said nothing else, the soft whirr of his scanners still processing whatever was on the other side of the doors, she decided to take action. She pushed passed him, marching through the large doors, ready to confront Asharah and what she knew about the Shadow Stalkers. She was not prepared to walk into a stand off between several pissed bodyguards. Every weapon locked onto her, red tracer dots dancing over her body. Harsan slowly approached, hands behind his back, as if the whole situation bored him.

"Who is this?!" A tall male with flowing crimson robes and an impressive crest growled angrily as he stepped forward. Asharah pushed through her three guards. A shocked look crossed her face as soon as she saw Ahandra.

"Ahandra, what are doing here?"

Before she could reply, the angry male cut her off.

"No more delays, kai. You're coming with me to stand trial."

"Gaidulus if you would just listen," Asharah growled in exasperation.

"Yan!" He slashed the air with his hand. "I will not allow this heresy to continue."

A burly warrior covered in spikes and shards metal swung his weapons back at the other bodyguards. "You bastards'll have to kill us all before you lay a single claw on her!" he growled loudly. The other warriors swung their weapons back onto each other, the two intruders forgotten.

"How can you call the truth heresy?!" Asharah shouted back. One of her warriors began to pull her back.

Suddenly, Harsan cleared his throat and stepped forward, slowly unlatching his mask. A sharp hiss emanated from one of Gaidulus' warriors when his pale face was revealed

"You should listen to the female, Gaidulus-kai."

The male sneered, unimpressed. "And who are you?"

"I am a Shadow Stalker."

Every weapon locked onto him, keening as their plasma charged. Gaidulus went pale, as if seeing a ghost and Asharah was dragged behind her guardians. Ahandra jumped in front of him, hands up to shield him, silently pleading with God not to let it all end this way.

* * *

**Author's Note**

* * *

Sorry for the long wait. I could've split this into two chapters but by the time I realized that I thought I might as well send them off together. The first part (featuring Auran and friends) was easy to write, despite losing the whole thing the first time around. Ahandra's part though was rough. I sorta knew this would be a long chapter but I had no idea it would end up being 7600 words. Please let me know what you think, especially regarding Ahandra's abilities. They've evolved over the course of the fic since I've been mixing a bit of fantasy into it and they've taken some interesting turns. They will be explained in a later chapter but I just want your impressions so far.

We're getting pretty close to the end and lots of feedback will help me get there faster ;) Thanks for reading!


	30. Dishonor

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Sange** – SAAN-gei

**Senaiath** - se-NAI-ath

**sjauk'rin** – curse, derivative of sjauk'la

* * *

**Dishonor**

* * *

Ajenke wrenched her blade from the twitching male's corpse, his rust-colored eyes rolling into the back of his head while boney limbs popped and jerked at unnatural angles. Despite having severed his spine, xashi continued to overload his nervous system. A slavering male with scabby skin clinging to his emaciated frame lunged at her from the side with a rusted shard of metal. She parried and kicked him back, whirling and slashing as another attacked her from behind. Blood sprayed from the deep gash she'd cut into his chest, but the male barely staggered. He howled in a mindless frenzy and tackled her to the ground. The male she'd kicked to the floor also pounced, their jagged claws scraping against her mask and armor as they tried to tear it off. Ajenke pulled out her knife and stabbed the one sitting on top of her in the ribs repeatedly, bright blood gushing and smearing over both of them. She cried out as claws dug across her shoulder and arms. During the struggle, one of them ripped away her knife.

With a great bellow, Rrourk kicked the bleeding male off of her. She could hear the sickening crunch of shattered ribs and burst organs as his foot buried itself inside the scavenger, tossing him several feet away. Rrourk swung his great axe and sliced the other male's head off. Ajenke watched it bounce down the tunnel, mandibles still twitching. Her mate didn't give the other male a chance to retreat, leaping over her and hacking him into several pieces, the male's screams of agony cut off with a final crushing blow to the skull.

E'kru was instantly by her side, helping her up and scanning the area for anymore enemies. Ajenke winced behind her mask as she stood, but did not let her pain show. Blood oozed from dozen of claw marks. Those that were not too deep she would allow to scar.

The sounds of battle echoed through the Tunnels and female war cries rang out as the Midnight Swords fought back against the horde of xashi scavengers that had tried to raid the Midnight Blossom's eastern pleasure dens and market.

When Rrourk saw that she was standing, he grunted and charged off into the fray, roaring as he swung his giant battle axe back and forth, limbs and blood littering the ground in his wake.

"Daka," Ajenke rumbled, secretly in awe of his sheer power. She turned to her second. Her grim face was coated with layers of white and red war paint. She had recently adopted the tradition the male warriors of her tribe ascribed to, that a warrior must not hide his face when he killed his enemies but look them in the eyes as they drew their final breath so that the fallen would know his killer and the victor would know if he had fought with honor. "How are the new blades?"

E'kru's mandibles flared slightly with pride. "They fight well. Only two dead. Sange drew first blood."

Ajenke growled. She did not like the thought of losing any of her warriors, considering how few Djaidesh'erin there were. But the attack had been sudden and other than herself, E'kru, and a few other male guardians, there had been an entire squad of fresh blades ready to prove themselves. They had done better than she'd expected, considering this was their first taste of combat.

The slavering xashi horde had thrown themselves at the traps strewn throughout the Tunnels leading to the underground trade post. They were much more organized and much larger than the small bands of two or three that normally roamed the dark passages and this disturbed her. She was on the brink of consolidating most of the Midnight Blossom's territories with only a few losses on the southern borders.

She headed back inside the fortress to have her wounds cleaned, trusting E'kru to lead the final rout. Xashi, for that was what the users were called now, were often ridden with disease and filth. There were rumors you could even become hooked on the drug if a xashi bit you. Ajenke did not believe in rumors, but she wasn't taking any chances.

The healers worked quick. Even though she was a minor case, she was the Mistress. Her survival was essential. To lose two Mistresses in less than a cycle would be catastrophic. The enemies of the Midnight Blossom would swarm over them like flies to a rotting carcass.

She hissed as the antiseptic gels seeped into her raw wounds, gripping the table to keep from warbling in pain. Once dry, the healer rubbed sealant on some of the gouges, the mixture forming an instant scab. The ones Ajenke wanted to become scars were wrapped in strips of linen.

Within a few minutes, the procedure was complete and she left the healers so they could tend to the wounded that were coming in now that the battle had ended. She searched for Sange to congratulate her on achieving the first kill and found her amongst her battle sisters. The young female was small and possessed the angular features and maroon skin common amongst the desert clans. Her thin brown locks were tied back, a fresh mandible tied to the cord around her neck to display her kill. Blood still covered her skin and face. Despite Ajenke's praise, she remained somber. One of her close friends had been killed during the fight and she wore her sword on her right hip in remembrance.

A twinge of sorrow tugged at Ajenke as she left the female and recalled her own losses. Grall. Nadhiya. Hesra. Every high ranking matron except Naka had been killed. The Matron of Discipline had revealed Sef and her had been secret lovers. She'd known of his hatred and desperation to be free, but said she'd never known of his plan. She'd been found drugged and tied up after the raid, with no memory of what happened. Many remained distrustful of Naka, but Ajenke needed her wisdom and believed Sef had betrayed her as much as he'd betrayed everyone else.

And then there were the Midnight Swords and flowers that had either been slain or disappeared during the attack. She'd returned to find the Midnight Blossom in shambles. The main entrance was still being rebuilt and the Red Room was under extensive renovations. They'd sealed off the Honeycomb. Too many had died in there and Ajenke had never liked the place to begin with.

A broad, scarred chest suddenly blocked her path and she looked up to see Rrourk's stern face, battle axe slung over his shoulder. He was covered in blood yet seemed completely oblivious to the fact as he looked her over. His fingers traced the claw marks on her shoulder, a guttural growl rising from his chest.

"I'm fine," she clicked, feigning annoyance.

As usual, he ignored her complaints and kissed her long and hard, the chittering giggles of on looking flowers making her blush slightly. She was not yet used to such public displays of ownership, despite Rrourk's penchant to do so at every opportunity, especially in front of his warriors. Ajenke in turn would boss him around ceaselessly. He made her pay in bed.

The thought warmed her and she pushed away before he thought he had a chance for a quick romp in one of the pleasure rooms. "That's enough, captain," she growled in the most imperious voice she could muster. Rrourk let out a growled whimper and tried to go for her sensitive neck. She pushed away again and he relented, his deep rumble letting her know he'd collect later.

"What do you make of the attack?" she asked, trying to distract him before he decided 'later' meant now.

His features turned serious and his golden eyes narrowed. "Unusual. Xashi don't travel in such large numbers. Someone's directin' 'em, although I'd love to know how since they're practically insane."

"A gang lord? He could supply the drugs and they'd be at his mercy."

"It's possible… problem is no one's ever been tied to the stuff. Shows up in random places and the xashi swarm to it like they can smell it or somethin'."

"Were there any survivors?"

Rrourk snorted. "'Course not."

"Find me a xashi that's half sane and bring him in for questioning. Killing them isn't getting us anywhere."

"As you wish," Rrourk rumbled. He looked past her and Ajenke turned to see who'd arrived. E'kru's war paint was gone, but her shuriken rifle was still strapped to her back. She smelled anxious and this unsettled Ajenke. "What's wrong?"

"Message from Zara. Come to Midnight Blossom quick. Very important."

Ajenke stiffened in fear. "Is it under attack?"

E'kru shook her head. "No attack. No reason given. Only that you come now."

* * *

**'\- ,-' |**

* * *

Growls and hissed curses rang out from the bodyguards as she stepped in front of Harsan, pleading with everyone not to shoot. "Please, listen to him! He's trying to help you."

"Ahandra, don't be a fool! You're going to get yourself killed!" shouted Asharah.

The room reeked of tension and distrust. One misstep and Ahandra knew she and her newfound protector would be obliterated, along with any hope of saving the city.

Then, the pale guard that had pulled Asharah back placed a hand on both of his comrade's shoulders. The two warriors, one tall and slender, the other burly and riddled with scars, glanced back at him, then at each other. Slowly, they lowered their weapons and powered down the plasma. "You better be sure about this, Ghost," growled the scarred one, his finger still on the trigger.

Asharah pushed passed her guardians and went straight for Ahandra, pulling her a few steps away from Harsan. "Have you gone mad? And how did you get here, I thought you were forbidden to move freely?"

"It's a long story—"

"Asharah-kai, what is going on? Who is this?"

The high priestess turned to face Gaidulus, his color returning as anger replaced fear. His temple guards had also lowered their weapons, but the hum of superheated plasma indicated the guns were still active, which meant Asharah's guards were at a disadvantage if things turned ugly. "Gaidulus-kai, this is Auran Drakenatharr's bondmate, Ahandra. I believe he is the one the Prophecy foretold would save Kuuroch."

A throat cleared behind them and everyone's eyes turned to Harsan, still standing with his hands clasped behind him, his intense gaze unwavering. "Time is short. I have betrayed Natharrak and he will no doubt accelerate his plan."

"Why should we listen to you, sharin'atharr?" growled Gaidulus.

Harsan stared him, his words cold and precise. "You were quite keen to accept the words of the Shadow Stalkers not too long ago, young kai. They are in fact, the very reason you are trying to arrest the high priestess. As Natharrak intended."

The high priest bristled, growling in agitation.

"Is this true?" Asharah asked him.

"What choice did I have? Firak had shut me out. When he desired counsel he turned to you," Gaidulus voice became raspy and if Ahandra didn't know better she was witnessing sorrow, a rare emotion, usually hidden from others because it conveyed weakness. "If Firak tried to tell me what you two have been discussing in secret all these months, I would not have understood it. His mind decayed faster than his body. I was on my own."

Asharah was slightly embarrassed, not sure how to respond to such a vulnerable opening without appearing disrespectful. "I… Gaidulus, I… um, why didn't you confront me without the threat of a trial? I would have willingly shared what Firak revealed to me. With his passing I was free to speak plainly."

"What do you mean?" his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Asharah sighed. "The dead forgive me… I am not supposed to tell you this but I never agreed with Firak about keeping you ignorant of our discussions. Keeping you at arm's length was Firak's way of protecting you… and at the same time test your loyalty."

Asharah might as well have slapped him in the face. Gaidulus clenched and unclenched his fists as agitated warbles escaped his flaring tusks.

An awkward silence filled the room, and bodyguards shifted restlessly, averting their eyes from the male as he struggled with himself. Ahandra felt an overwhelming sense of shame and sorrow, the room blurring and shifting as she searched for answers within the veins of the stone floor. A great ache filled her chest, one word bouncing inside it's hollowed out depths. Unworthy. She was unworthy. She did not deserve her power. A silver blade with a leather handle gleamed at the center of a shallow pool of water. She took it, hands trembling. Unworthy. She pressed the tip against her chest, just below the ribcage. Unworthy. She'd given into evil. What could absolve a kai, a mouthpiece for the Creators, of their sin? No one's blood but their own. Unworthy blood. She fell forward.

"No!" Ahandra cried out. The ceiling above came into sharp focus and she glanced around, confused. Asharah was kneeling over her, concern tightening her mandibles. "What happened? Where's Gaidulus?" she asked, sitting up.

The high priestess stared at her. "He's here. You were only out for a few seconds. Why—"

"Don't do it!" she blurted, looking straight at him. He stared back, his features hardening.

"What, Ahandra? Don't do what?" Asharah asked, trying to turn her chin towards her. Direct eye contact with a high-ranking male was disrespectful. She lowered her gaze, suddenly embarrassed by her outburst. She wasn't even sure of what she'd witnessed, the vision quickly dissipating.

A low rumble emanated from Harsan. "Interesting…"

Everyone's gaze turned to him. "I was always under the impression Iseneth's gift was limited to a specific future. It seems her abilities were much more complex than our spies estimated."

"Iseneth? What does she have to do with this female's insanity?"Gaidulus clicked.

The high priestess gave a sharp hiss and she leaned away from Ahandra. "Oh Goddess, it can't be…" Ahandra's eyes widened as she reached out to touch her face. It was an incredible breach of personal space. Were she born a yautja she would have snarled and pulled away. Instead, she kept very still, her gaze flicking this way and that, uncertain of where she should look.

"How did I not see it before? Jaiendra's secrecy, the blood symbols I pulled from the reading… You're her. You're Iseneth."

Anger filled Ahandra and she pushed herself away from the high priestess, scrambling to her feet.

"Ise—"

"No! I am not Iseneth! I may look like her, I may see things that other people can't, but I am not her. I'm Ahandra. I'm me," she growled. "I hate this- this _gift_! All I see is death and destruction and monsters. Every dream, it gets worse and worse and every time I die in some new, horrible way. I don't know what any of it means, I just- just want it to stop," she gasped, exhaustion suddenly sweeping over her. What she wouldn't give for a dreamless sleep, to wake up and not have to worry if what she was experiencing was reality.

A harsh metallic voice spoke up, just behind her two other bodyguards. "She is correct when she claims she is not Iseneth," rasped Ghost, his glowing red eye assessing her from the shadows.

"Explain," ordered Asharah.

"As you know, I served Iseneth-kai for many years. She dreamed of an alien world and a dying female warrior. In her dream, she took her skin and wrapped the female in it, her flesh becoming one with the alien, allowing her to live while Iseneth was consumed by shadow. When Firak confided to her the Shan's plan to take over Hunter territory by blood bonding the last Shadow Stalker with a huunan thras'ka, she knew she must persuade the Shan to use her body. Iseneth told him of her dream and argued that by using her flesh the alien would be purified and therefore none could say her blood was tainted. The Shan accepted and sent her genetic schematic to the aliens to match with a host. Shortly thereafter, despite my resolve to protect the kai from her dark fate, she was assassinated." Ghost bowed his head, mechanic eye whirring.

The high priestess nodded. "Thank you, Ghost. I had always wondered what was troubling my mentor in the days before she… disappeared."

"It seems your mentor also kept secrets from you, Asharah-kai," Gaidulus rumbled, his eyes narrowing in thoughtful contemplation. "I think it wise for us to share everything we've been hiding from each other this past year, if we are to understand the nature of our enemy. He's managed to assassinate a kai and set us at each other's throats. You two," he pointed at Ahandra and Harsan. "You will stay here and answer our questions. The female's visions are of particular interest to me."

The ka'ii dismissed their guards to wait outside. Ahandra noticed Ghost merely disappeared. Considering his failure to protect Iseneth, she bet he intended to never make the same mistake again, even if it meant disobeying his current mistress. The two kai circled each other for a moment before settling down at a long table near the fireplace. They were silent for some time. Ahandra had learned that for yautja, silences before negotiations, introductions and even battles were an important and integral part of maintaining respect between parties. Every expression, gesture and scent revealed a person's true intentions. She'd also learned that the person who initiated the conversation was crucial. They both possessed the same rank and Asharah had been kai for many years now. But Gaidulus was male and older by at least a decade. If she had to guess, the high priest's age gave him the right to speak first.

To her and everyone else's surprise, Harsan spoke first.

"As much as I enjoy silence, I would suggest you resolve whatever theological and personal disagreements you have as quickly as possible."

"With all due respect," rumbled Asharah, "we will be unable to do anything until the Shan and the clan leaders return."

"It will be too late by then." Harsan folded his arms and walked over to the balcony that overlooked the jungle beneath the burgundy sky, an orange glow blooming on the horizon. The dawn would not last long. Already, storm clouds were building in the north. The Storm season was in full swing and relentless.

Ahandra turned back to the ka'ii. If Asharah seemed offended, she hid it well. "If you wish Gaidulus-kai, I will answer whatever questions you have first."

"The information I received… it mentioned the abolishment of the two Creators, along with their temples."

Asharah shook her head. "Iyan. Firak, along with a few others, have long believed that certain parts of Ashann's writings have either been ignored or misinterpreted for several centuries now. To promote their belief that the sexes should be separate, four centuries ago the High Clan ordered the kai-ra'cha to re-interpret the scriptures. They invented blood reading to back up their claims and began separating temples and spiritual centers from the general populace to keep them ignorant. After a few generations, the God and the Goddess were accepted by many city-states."

"What are you saying?" Gaidulus rumbled, eyes narrowing.

"I'm saying that Firak was trying to return to the old belief in one Creator, both male and female and yet neither."

"Next you'll be saying he wanted to stop the Crusades."

"Yan, although he disapproved of those too, but for a different reason. The serpents are a bane to the universe and should be wiped out. On this you and I can agree."

"I have yet to hear any proof that what you two were discussing was not heresy."

"If truth is heresy then the world is truly lost," she growled, leaning forward slightly. "I can provide you the proof you need Gaidulus but I must know that you have an open mind. Firak chose you because of your devotion to something greater than religious rituals."

"And what is that?"

"The truth."

Her words hung in the air and the pair fell into silence, an uneasiness settling over the high priest. Ahandra glanced between them. The conversation had been tense and the animosity lingering beneath the surface of their words both agitated and excited her. If this were a late night drama, she'd be cuddling beneath a blanket on her couch, munching on buttery popcorn. The nostalgia made her stomach gurgle. Damn, she was hungry. She suddenly thought of Seinu. He could be hungry. Were they feeding him enough? Did he miss her? Gaidulus' words pulled her out of her worry.

"So… you aren't trying to take over the kai'cha?"

Asharah warbled softly. "Far from it. Firak's idea was to, um… how do I say this… unite the priesthood."

Gaidulus raised an eyebrow. "How?"

Asharah blushed slightly but managed not to stumble. "The ka'ii would be blood bonded."

Ahandra tried to keep her mandibles stiff to keep from warbling. Gaidulus jaw had dropped slightly and Asharah was fiddling with the folds of her robe, unable to look him in the eye. Her words tumbled out before he could speak and Ahandra almost prayed for God to send her a bag of popcorn. Instead she asked Him to keep them from killing each other, since that seemed to be a strong possibility when it came to males and females of this species.

"I told him it would be practically impossible. Neither of us trusts the other and as for myself I'm far too prideful, I would never consent to be relegated to a trophy or ritualistic bauble. And as for you, well, you would think bonding would indicate some sort of weakness to appear to need a female or a dishonor to acknowledge a female as an equal or—"

"Asharah."

Her words trailed off and she looked him in the eye.

"Firak's suggestion, if your claims about the scriptures prove true of course, is ingenious." He hesitated. "I will need time to process these revelations."

"Now that you've decided not to kill each other," growled Harsan, his sudden appearance at Ahandra's nearly making her jump out of her skin, "It would be wise of you to hear what I and the female have to say."

"Since I am told N'tharral'ii tend to be direct and you are our elder I will ignore your breach of respect this time."

"Your magnanimity is overwhelming."

Gaidulus growled.

"If you two are done posturing," huffed Asharah, "I would like to know more about Ahandra's visions." She gestured for Ahandra to sit with them. Harsan remained standing several arms length away, arms crossed. As soon as she was seated the two shifted to face her, their pupils widening slightly as they prepared to give her their full attention.

"Start with the first vision."

Ahandra thought back to day she'd stepped foot on Ashann. The thundering rains washing over her as ran through a forest, tumbling down a hole like Alice and into a nightmarish world of slime and darkness. "I'm running. Something is chasing me, I don't know what but I can hear its roars as I run through a labyrinth. The tunnels are coated with slime and bones, becoming smaller and smaller as I head towards the center…"

* * *

**;|' \- ,'-**

* * *

It was sundown by the time they finished. The two priests had gone over the details of the visions with meticulous insight, analyzing the triggers, their evolution and their increasing frequency. She had not shared Gaidulus' suicidal fantasy. Whether it was a product of extreme, temporal emotion or real possibility remained to be seen. But at least now she knew why she'd felt it. According to Asharah, her predecessor didn't so much see the future as she sensed a person's intentions. The future is made of nearly infinite possibilities and each person's choice affects the outcome. Like Iseneth, Ahandra sensed possible futures when they involved strong emotions or intentions. Because of Natharrak's intense hatred and his plan involved the destruction of the entire city, her visions were incredibly strong. The two kai could not however, explain why she split between her huunan and yautja self, or her glowing savior that wielded a spear. Spears were forbidden. They belonged to the Hunters that inhabited their race's homeworld. Ashann had been killed by a spear and his followers, after fleeing the world, had agreed to ban it and adopt the sword as the preferred weapon of choice.

Ahandra cradled her head in her hands, closing her eyes to rest. She was so tired. But sleep was out of the question, not when there was so much more to do. That and she was afraid of what else she might see. The one thing missing from her nightmares was hope. Iseneth had dreamed of her own death many times. And it had come true. Ahandra didn't believe in fate, destiny, evolutionary determinism or any that bullshit. But with the way things were going she couldn't see a way to stop the Shadow Stalkers. Not with everything Harsan had told them.

She peeked through her laced fingers at the stern older warrior sitting across from her. He had informed them of Natharrak's horrifying plan with a cool detachment, as if he were he were giving a briefing on a mundane military exercise to a fresh batch of recruits. The worst part was that even if they managed to kill him, his plan could carry on without him. They had to hope that Kuuroch's warriors would return early if they were to have any chance of containing the threat.

Asharah and Gaidulus were currently trying to piece everything together through the Prophecy. While it gave them hope for their city and the rest of the world, it filled Ahandra with a sense of dread.

_And then the star born shall die…_

The dead rising, stars falling, curses. None of it made sense. And to top it all off, Auran, who she had barely seen the past two cycles, was supposed to die. Pain pricked the sides of her head and she rested her face in the folds of her arm on the table. Anger warmed her chest and she was glad she hadn't warbled in despair. She couldn't lose it, not yet. She had to save Auran and Seinu and Ajenke and everyone else.

She had, at most, three days. The Shan would be returning in three days. Auran was supposed to be here before then. All they had to do was convince the shan'ra and Tunnel gang lords to work together. She nearly snorted.

When she raised her head, everyone was gone. Ash covered the black scarred walls and floor, the wooden table and shelves reduced to powder. A fresh trail of blood led from the room and out into the hall. Muffled screams and howling shrieks echoed from below.

Ahandra sighed and stood. She'd fallen asleep. Perfect.

A shadowed figure suddenly appeared at the door, his sword dripping with glowing blood, his free hand gripping the hair of a freshly severed head. Despite her numbness, apprehension gripped her. "Who are you?"

He stepped into the light. It was Auran. She took a step forward, then stopped, her gut twisting in warning. As Ahandra took a closer look at him, her joy began to morph into fear. The fiery light cast by burning city in the distance shadowed his face in unnatural angles. His face was flat and expressionless, not even his mandibles moved. The normally intelligent light in his eyes was gone, replaced by deadened black spheres that did not blink. This was not her Auran.

She looked down at the head. It was her human head, her face and eyes gaping in frozen horror. She swallowed the bile creeping up her throat, her knees shaking as she waited for the inevitable.

The sword began to glow with an inner light that would have been beautiful were it not about to gut her. He was quick, she barely had time to blink before the sword was embedded in her stomach. At first, she felt nothing, only the wrongness when something was inside the body that should not be there. She gasped as pain began to seep through her, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, the taste making her gag. With each choke, the sword moved inside her, the metal body becoming hot iron, electric shocks wrenching through every nerve.

"Yan, yan, oh God…"

Her eyes widened. Auran was awake, the darkness gone from his eyes. The look of anguish twisting his face was infinitely more painful that the sword burning her insides. She wanted to tell him it was all right. He hadn't been himself. It was an accident. He sunk to the floor, cradling her in his arms, his ragged breathing filling her ears as the room darkened. Moments stretched into eternity as she waited to die, each of Auran's whimpered denials and pleas another sword carving into her heart.

Harsan was the first to notice her when she awoke. He said nothing, giving her space as she quietly composed herself.

"You saw something." He kept his voice low. Asharah and Gaidulus were currently enrapt in their debate on how they would present their knowledge to the shan'ra.

She nodded, the vision still painfully fresh in her mind's eye.

"What did you see?"

"Auran. But he was not himself."

The older warrior's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"His eyes were wrong. They were dead. And then… he stabbed me, Harsan." Her voice shook as she recalled the next part. "And then he woke up. He didn't understand what had happened, like he'd been in a trance or drugged."

Harsan's silver tipped dreadlocks clinked as he leaned forward, one arm resting on the table. "Listen to me. Do not go near your bondmate until I tell you it's safe."

"Auran would never—"

A deep growl cut her off. "Do as I say. Or your terrible vision will come true."

Ahandra growled back softly, not sure which pissed her off more, the fact that the Shadow Stalkers had done something to her mate or that Harsan knew what was wrong and wouldn't tell her.

She fell asleep three more times, each dream worst than the last, Auran's cries of anguish burned into her psyche forever. By the third, she quietly begged Harsan for a stimulant. He passed her a small kit. The ten doses would last her three days, although she'd probably start hallucinating towards the end. The sharp pinch of the needle focused her and within seconds she could feel the stimulants pumping through her, the energy invigorating. She'd taken something similar during the war, but just once. Korey's had surrounded them, hammering their defenses relentlessly. The assault had lasted two days. As soon as reinforcements drove them off, she'd passed out against the shattered remains of a wall. Best sleep of her life.

Three days. If she could make it three days, she would be with Auran and Seinu again and the visions would finally go away. She excused herself and walked out of the chambers, unable to sit still. Harsan followed at a discreet distance. She wasn't sure if this comforted her or not. Three days, she reminded herself. Just three more days.

* * *

**'/| -; ,|'**

* * *

Hetarrak awoke, the blurry twilight of space stretching before him as his vision cleared, the cold, gray metal of the control dash slowly coming into focus. Steamy breaths punctuated the frozen silence as he tried to remember how he ended up here. The last thing he remembered was Auran calling him on N'varak. The plan had gone sour and Auran needed him to pick them up at the back up site. He'd acknowledged and then…

Hetarrak winced and clenched his mandibles as he tried to raise his head, pain stabbing the back of his neck and skull and lancing down his shoulder blades. His numb fingers fumbled with his harness, the deep chill in the air starting to send violent shivers through his body. He hissed muttered curses as his skin prickled in pain, scales splitting and stretching with each clumsy attempt to grip the icy cold metal of the harness latch. Hetarrak's frustrated growls only worsened the throbbing chest ache that pulsed in time with his labored breathing. The harness finally slipped apart, revealing dark splotchy bruises in the shape of an 'X' over his chest. A shaking hand gingerly traced one of the lines. He was pretty sure he cracked a rib or three. They must have been going at least sub-warp for him to have sustained that kind of damage.

He scooted forward, running his claws over the controls, switching on systems and scanning the area for any sign of enemy vessels. Crimson lights and buttons flickered to life and as more systems booted up, it became clear they were drifting far off course, the ship tumbling through the void in a slow spiral, metal debris and crystallized fluids swirling around them. Specks of blood glittered over the back of his hand as he flexed his fingers, his scaly flesh splitting as he attempted to get his blood flowing. The ship's A.I. had managed to keep basic life support and engine functions active, an automatic distress beacon cast out into the void. With no enemy vessels in sight he turned his focus on the internal diagnostic reports streaming in from all corners of the ship. He ordered the A.I. to prioritize malfunctions by degree of seriousness. The one that immediately caught his attention was the hull breach on the starboard side. "Faksha kessarin," he hissed as he pulled up a hologram of the ship, zooming in on the damaged area. A three-pronged grappling hook had punctured the hull. A thick cord trailed from it, snapped at the end. Whatever ship it had been launched from was nowhere in sight. Hetarrak eyed the debris hovering around, too little to comprise a ship, but not enough to have come from theirs.

He returned his attention to holoscreens. There were several things he would need to do before repairs could begin on the breach. Thankfully, the ship had been punctured in the cargo bay rather than the supply hold.

Panic suddenly gripped Hetarrak when he realized he didn't know if Auran and I'aquin were even onboard. What if they'd been in the cargo hold during the attack? He expanded the ship hologram, breathing a sigh of relief when he spied two heat signatures in the med bay. They were alive. His worry returned though as he studied them. Both were on the ground and sensors detected no movement.

He moved heating and med bay issues to the top of the priority list. Patching up sensors wouldn't do them any good if they all froze to death. He bypassed the security protocols that had sealed the ship doors to keep the air from being sucked away.

Hetarrak groaned as he stood, stiffly making his way from the bridge to the central corridor that linked the four areas of the small ship. The door hissed open, the frosty gust sending sharp shudders through him. To the left was the entrance to the supply hold. Before him was the cargo hold, the red lights flashing around the door frame indicating the entrance was still sealed and only someone with either access codes or a plasma cannon could get through. He turned right, heading into the med bay, noting the smeared trail of blood leading under the door. Hetarrak flicked his wrist blades loose as the doors parted, cautiously moving forward, sniffing the cold air for any sign of danger.

He quickly discovered I'aquin and Auran's crumpled forms on the floor. His blades retracted with a sharp click as he knelt over I'aquin, his life heat so faint that for a moment Hetarrak feared him dead. The blood smear led up to the metal slab where a small pool of frozen blood gleamed in the lowlight. If Hetarrak had to guess, the plasma hole in I'aquin's shoulder along with other wounds meant the blood belonged to him.

He moved over to Auran. When he didn't see any serious injuries Hetarrak rumbled loudly and shook his shoulder. His friend woke slowly, growling as he woke to his own pains and the freezing air. Hetarrak stood when he sat up, helping his friend upright before backing off a respectful distance. He would need space to assess his injuries. Hetarrak averted his eyes to the floor, his gaze flicking over to I'aquin every few seconds. Now that Auran was conscious and his dominating scent began filing the air, he was suddenly unsure of what to do next.

Auran rubbed his neck and shoulder as he faced Hetarrak, dark bruises spreading over his left side. "What happened?" he slurred, mandibles clenched against the cold.

"Uh…" Hetarrak's mind went blank. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering if his memory had been affected by the whiplash.

"Hetarrak," Auran growled. "Focus."

"Focus, right, uh… there's a hole in the ship."

"And?"

"We're off course… and… and the A.I.'s locating the wiring issue so we can have heat again," he recalled. Just like that, he remembered everything that had happened since he'd awoken. There was more to it than that. Tons of data on flight path, damage, estimated repair time. He hunched his shoulders, angry with himself. Why couldn't he ever not sound like an idiot?

A cold hand clapped onto his shoulder. Surprised, Hetarrak looked up at Auran, reminded again of how short he was compared to most males.

"You did well, Hetarrak. If it weren't for you, I'aquin and I would be dead."

Pride swelled through him at his friend's words and he returned the gesture. "Told you I'm the best damn pilot in all of Kuuroch."

Auran chuckled as they parted. "Saa, I think you mentioned it a few times."

"There's just one thing."

"Mm?"

"What'd I do? I mean, I don't remember what happened."

Auran smirked. "Maybe for the best. We'd never hear the end of it, how you destroyed several enemy vessels and then caught us with the ship in mid-air."

Hetarrak's jaw dropped and he nearly grabbed Auran as he turned away. "What?! Are you serious?! What exactly did I do? Did I do the twist-flip maneuver, 'cause I've been wanting to do that for a really long time."

A low groan silenced Auran's reply. Auran and Hetarrak rushed to I'aquin's side, carefully rolling him over. His eyes flickered open and he groaned again.

"Stop trying to talk," Auran huffed. Hetarrak grabbed his legs as Auran hoisted their limp friend onto the operating slab.

I'aquin emitted a low growl. "…sjauk'rin cold table."

"Yak'sallah," growled Auran as he rummaged through the supply cabinets.

Hetarrak stood back and watched the two exchange growled barbs, pleased that for once I'aquin wasn't angry at him.

"Sjauk'rin bastard. You denied me an honorable death. Now I'm going to die of frostbite because some da'kade thought it was a good idea for us to jump off a cliff," he glared at Hetarrak and he shrunk within himself slightly.

"Hetarrak saved us and the ship. You should thank him for saving your useless hide," Auran rumbled, injecting a clear fluid into his arm. I'aquin clicked angrily, turning his head away, refusing to even acknowledge either of them. Hetarrak caught Auran's smirk and he suddenly realized Auran had said that specifically to make I'aquin be quiet. He quickly ducked out of the med bay before he laughed, the thought of a Shadow Stalker besting a Hidden Dagger hilarious.

He sat down, wincing as the cold seat bit into his skin and chilled some of his amusement. He scanned the data streaming above his controls. The temperature was slowly climbing, the ship having entered into hibernation mode when it hadn't detected any movement. A terrible system.

He studied the system charts and stars, going over the warp flight log. The A.I. had corrected the flight path and three out of five engines functioning at optimal levels, which was more than he could have hoped for. He studied the moments before the warp jump, wincing as he went through the report. An enemy ship had shot a grappling hook into their hull, possibly hoping to either drag them back or hitch a ride with them and finish the job once they entered normal space. Since they had been on the fringe of the energy field the concussive ripple had likely torn their ship apart, the debris from the explosion following them. Hetarrak sat back, rubbing his hands. The odds of them surviving… He didn't even want to calculate.

Auran's voice suddenly echoed throughout the bridge over the comm system. "Hetarrak, how far off course are we?"

He froze, the memories of the chase, pick-up and escape hitting him all at once. Some parts were still a little fuzzy, but Auran could help fill those in.

"Hetarrak?"

"Uh, saa, I heard you. Good news, I got my memory back."

"Good to hear. Any good news about where we are?"

Hetarrak watched as the map loaded, the hologram pulling back to show the distance and time to Ashann. "Not far, but with the some of the engines stressed I don't want to push her too hard. If we do a short jump, it'll take a few hours. If we cruise at sub-warp, a few days."

"Is a jump worth the risk?"

"Considering how incredibly lucky we've been the last couple days I'd prefer not to tempt fate. Technically, none of us should be alive."

"Alright. That'll give us time to patch up the ship and I'aquin before we arrive."

"Won't we be a little late? The Shan's expecting us to arrive before him."

"The Shan can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. If the bastard wanted the damn sword so badly, he should've gone for it himself. He can wait a day or two."

Hetarrak shook his head as he flipped off the comm switch. Auran was the only yautja he knew that had the balls to stand toe-to-toe with the Shan and walk away alive. He wondered who would win if they ever actually fought.

* * *

**\|- '/, -;-**

* * *

Ajenke strode into the council chamber, sword in hand, Rrourk and E'kru close behind. The matrons that had gathered to gawk at the stranger quickly stepped aside, their chittering murmurs following her as she approached Zara and the male standing at the center of the room. He was tall and lean, his tan skin marking him a sun dweller. Plasma burns scarred his ochre-colored flesh, a testament to his ability to get close to an enemy without dying. He smelled like rain and did not appear comfortable underground. He was however, enjoying the attention from a half dozen flowers dressed in little more than sheer silk.

Ajenke frowned and stopped several paces away, pointing her sword at the strange male who'd dared to summon her. "Zara! Who is this intruder and why should I hear his words?"

Zara, who had been speaking with the stranger, bowed low. "Forgive my cryptic summons. I could not risk it. This is Neyenthul Stormfist of the Sky Runners clan. He has come to negotiate the terms for rescuing the Mistress."

Shock rippled through the matrons and flowers and all eyes turned to Ajenke. Her features hardened, muscles tensing as she restrained her emotions. She must not appear weak.

Instead she lowered her sword, hissing for everyone to leave as she sheathed it. Zara, E'kru and Rrourk stood several paces away, unwilling to leave her alone. She paced back forth, glancing up every few moments at Neyenthul, his orange eyes never wavering. She clicked in irritation, spinning on her heel and marching straight towards him. "Why are you here? I was told the Sky Runners had no interest in saving my mother."

"My uncle's been persuaded otherwise. Circumstances… have changed," he purred as he stepped closer.

Ajenke growled in warning, casting a quick glance over at Rrourk's tensed form, hoping he had sense enough not to interfere. They were mates, but she was the Mistress.

His smile faded. "You're not at all like her…"

"Who?"

"Your mother. She possessed a cool cunning and deadly sensuality that some males found… irresistible. She was the unconquerable female. But you," he rumbled, sweeping his gaze over her with a leisure that infuriated Ajenke, "You are like fire. Passionate, beautiful, wild. To tame you would kill you."

"Enough," Ajenke growled. "Did you come to flatter or to negotiate?"

He frowned. "You are very different from the time before. Perhaps your mother taught you more than I suspected. She was an expert when it came to twisting males for her purposes."

"What happened between you and my mother is of no consequence—"

"Yan!" Neyenthul barked.

Rrourk growled softly, a hand gripping his hilt.

"Were I not desperate to save my brother I would never have ventured into this forsaken pit," he spat. "Your mother, your beautiful, cruel mother, cursed me and then made a fool of me. It was a hard lesson I will not soon forget."

"Your brother?"

Neyenthul folded his arms and looked down at the ground. "Half-brother, but I see no difference. Our latest raid went wrong. It was my fault. One of our cousins was killed and Senaiath, my brother, was taken prisoner. My Sky Runners can do nothing, the elders are resigned to his fate and none would hear my solution."

"You want me to free your brother."

He looked up. "Saa. You have power within the Tunnels. The other gang lords respect you, or at the very least, are smart enough not to cross you. If you save him, I will try to find a way to save your mother or repay you in some other way."

Ajenke snorted. "You'll _try_? I'm going to need something better than a vague promise before I risk my life and the lives of my warriors."

"I don't see the problem."

"Which gang lord has him?"

"Torgrin Bladeclaw."

Ajenke barked a harsh laugh. "You crossed the oldest and most cunning gang lord in the Tunnels."

"The reward was worth it."

"Do you know what he does to his enemies?"

"…Yan."

"He ties them up with their hands and feet spread apart, then slowly flays, gouges, rips and slashes at the prisoner until they're turned into hunks of meat and bone. Preferably with an audience. Then he feeds the remains to his pets."

Neyenthul said nothing.

She shook her head. "How long has Torgrin had your brother?"

"Almost two days."

"Chh, he's probably already dead," she said turning away.

Neyenthul grabbed her arm and wrenched her around. "How dare you dismiss me!?"

An ominous hum filled the air and both looked up to see the monstrous mouth of a plasma gun pointed straight at the Sky Runner's head, Rrourk's golden eyes glowing with bloodlust. "Touch her again… and I'll blow yer head off."

Neyenthul slowly let her go and backed away. The tension filled her mouth with a bitter tang and Ajenke looked over at her two captains. E'kru lowered her rifle while Zara flicked her razor whip into a coiled circled and attached it back to her hip. Rrourk had yet to lower the plasma blaster. "Captain… _Captain_… _Rrourk!_"

He snapped to attention, his fiery eyes locking onto her.

"I need him."

An angry growl rolled through his broad chest as he lowered the humming gun a fraction. "You aren't seriously considerin' goin' after that dead brother of his? And even if by some chance of misfortune the bastard's still alive, how are you gettin' in and out without somebody dyin'? Yer not goin' anywhere near that psychopath and his gang."

"Stand down, Captain," she hissed. "Until I ask for counsel, you will be silent."

Their stare down lasted several tense seconds before Rrourk cursed loudly and stalked from the room. Ajenke glared at the male who had caused it all. "You should have sent your uncle and his honeyed tongue."

"I'll do it," he hissed, falling to his knees.

Shock rippled through her. "What?..."

"It should storm all week. You bring me back my little brother, dead or alive, it doesn't matter… and I will save your mother."

Ajenke was taken aback by the supreme act of submission. The humiliation. The incredible _dishonor_. She stared at him, suddenly seeing herself— alone, desperate, forced to turn to strangers to ask the impossible. Senaiath was probably dead. Her mother was vengeful and cruel and had likely earned her fate. Was it worth risking both of their lives… and everyone else's?

* * *

**Author's Note**

* * *

****Thank you for your patience and to everyone who reviewed Chapter 29. Every bit of feedback counts and I've created a new way for ya'll to share your opinions - on my profile page, at the top, you'll find a poll asking the question 'Who is your favorite hero/heroine?' Next chapter I'll reveal the results and have a new poll waiting for you!

Of course, reviews are always appreciated. As in, stop reading and review now. Seriously, the box is right down there. See it? All empty and starving? If you don't feed it words then your author will die and the story will never be resolved :(


	31. Sacrifice

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone, sorry this took so long. My life has been topsy turvy the last few weeks. If there are any errors, I apologize. I rushed to get this out before Thanksgiving because there's no way I'd have time to work on until at least Sunday. Thanks for the reviews and PMs - I look forward to reading your comments on this chapter as well. Don't forget to go to my profile page and vote for your favorite character! I'll reveal the results when I post Chapter 32.

* * *

**Sacrifice**

* * *

The Midnight Swords raced through the tunnels, blurry shadows against the eternal twilight as they quietly flitted through pools of darkness and silent gray caverns. Soft splashes echoed off the somber stone walls as their quick feet brushed against black puddles, shivering ripples the only the evidence of their passage. They were wraiths, their indigo bodies bleeding into the darkness like ghostly comets, their life heat all but invisible to the naked eye.

Ajenke shuddered slightly as the virus, a gift from Neyenthul, infected her skin, chilling her flesh and sending strange, electric pulses through her body every few seconds. Short of cloaking fields, this was the next best thing. It was a technology known only to the Sky Runner clan and it would give them the edge they needed to take down Torgrin.

She leapt over a crumbled section of wall, a calm confidence guiding her steps as her warriors charged into the heart of the enemy's territory, the memory of how she'd been persuaded into agreeing to this insane plan making her smirk.

Two days ago, Neyenthul had fallen to his knees to beg for the life of his half-brother in exchange for her mother. She had considered, long and hard, torn between desire and duty. Ajenke remembered looking into his desperate orange eyes, her resolve hardening with each beat of her twin hearts. "Yan. I cannot do it. I will not risk the lives of my sisters and those I've vowed to protect."

Shock rippled through her captains. Worst of all was the anger in Neyenthul's face, his fists trembling as he slowly stood. He'd been gambling on the hope that their shared desperation and her understanding of rejection would be enough to form a tenuous alliance. A cycle ago, maybe. But she'd grieved and moved on. She wasn't the selfish young dancer that craved her mother's approval any longer. She was the Mistress, the Deadly Beauty and Bane of the Thousand Blades. There was no room for sentiment. That's what her mother would tell her. This was what she would want her do… wasn't it?

"Why?" Neyenthul rasped. "What more do you want?"

"I want nothing. My mother is dead to me and I have prayed that she receive a swift death. You should do the same for your brother."

Hoarse growls shook the male as he raised himself to his full height and lifted his chin. "So be it. But I will not forget this. I never want to see your shadow darken our trade halls again you callous bitch. I hope Shaidra turns this place into dust when he returns!" As he was about to turn, Zara called out to him.

"Wait!"

"Zara," Ajenke hissed.

"Neyenthul, she will do it."

His orange eyes glared at her.

The spotted female did not back down. "Let us speak with her. For the sake of your brother, wait a few more hours."

Neyenthul growled, his gaze flicking between the two females. He nodded slightly, the angry light in his eyes fading, his proud shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.

When the stone door sealed behind him, Ajenke cursed and rounded on her friend. "How dare you disrespect me! You made me look like an incompetent fool!"

"You're making this decision without even considering what your advisors have to say!" Zara shot back. "Your mother was important to everyone here."

"Oh please, you honestly expect me to believe that? She uses people! Uses them and then kills them when they've outlived their usefulness! She was obsessed with undermining the Shan, to the point of nearly bankrupting the Midnight Blossom several times."

"She also saved people lives," Zara countered. "Do you know how many us she kept from pleasure dens, enslavement and worse? I was supposed to be sold as meat for the blood pits, to feed the monstrous creatures used in the gambling arenas." She gestured at E'kru. "She was barely 10 when your mother found her chained to a rape pole, bleeding to death because she refused to break."

Ajenke growled and paced restlessly for a few moments.

"I'm not saying this makes up for what your mother did to you—"

"Then what are you saying dammit?! That I ignore what she did, what she said, what sh-she she…" Ajenke clamped her mandibles shut, embarrassed. She hadn't stuttered since she was a child. Her mother had broken her of that habit. She could almost taste the disgusting sour paste she'd had shoved in her mouth.

The door suddenly opened, Naka and several young matrons entering. The elder matron glared at everyone present, her tresses pulled back into a tight tail. A tap to her gauntlet raised the circular stone table from the floor. "Whatever you're discussing, make it quick. That pissy upworlder doesn't look very patient."

Ajenke growled and crossed her arms, refusing to look at her friend. This wasn't a betrayal, but it felt pretty close to it. "I will not allow it Zara."

"This isn't just about the Mistress, Ajenke, this is also about sending a message." The captain turned to address everyone. "Torgrin is one of our greatest enemies. His flagrant denouncements and territorial breaches have made us look weak. Border clashes are whittling away what few male defenders we have left. If we kill him and scatter his forces, the other Tunnel Lords will take notice. When we save Senaiath we can also save some of our sisters that were taken by the bastard."

Ajenke could see Zara's words were having an effect on the matrons. They were passionate, well spoken and she wanted to believe them. But Zara was sidestepping a critical issue.

"Can we risk losing more of us?" All eyes turned to the Matron of Healing, Rrek'ne. Her hair was woven into an intricate bun, spells and charms hanging from her neck over a spotless white robe. "Can we risk losing you Zara? Xashi roam the Tunnels and test our borders every day. And to send our best against a powerful foe seems foolhardy and desperate."

At last, common sense. Ajenke scanned the females' faces that stood around the stone table. As always, Naka's stony countenance was unreadable. Zara, assured she was in the right, stared down Rrek'ne. The healer was tough and stubborn. The captain's challenge did little to impress her. The rest of them looked undecided.

"Not if we strike hard and fast," Zara countered, clenching her fist in front of her. "With the weapons Neyenthul promised us, Torgrin will be overwhelmed. If we do it right, we can be in and out quickly."

"What weapons?" Ajenke snapped, annoyed that Zara had been planning with the Sky Runner without her knowledge.

"Better ones. And they're ours to keep if we succeed. We'll need them when we go after the Mistress."

Ajenke hand squeezed her arm as she tried to keep her temper from boiling over. Zara was trying to help, she reminded herself. Suddenly she realized the room had gone quiet and everyone was staring at her.

The bitter stench of anger hung in the air and she could feel her blood rushing under her skin, her body glowing white hot. Embarrassment flushed through her, the lack of control mortifying.

Naka broke the awkward silence. "I think it best you leave, captain."

Zara growled. "I think it best I stay."

"Go."

Zara turned to E'kru in surprise. "Go? But I thought you agreed with me?"

"All go. Only I stay. I speak with Mistress alone."

If Naka was offended, she didn't show it. A sharp bark cut off the other matrons rising protests. They shuffled out of the room, the table slowly lowering back into the floor with a soft rumble.

Zara let out a frustrated hiss and strode from the room, the scent of her anger irritating Ajenke.

"What are you doing?" Ajenke hissed as soon as she disappeared from sight. "First Zara presumes my will and now you're giving orders on my behalf. Has everyone gone mad?"

"Zara trying to help."

"Help? She went over my head discussing strategies with Neyenthul, disrespected me in front of him and made me look ignorant in front of the matrons! How in the abyssal hells is that helping?!" Anger flared over her face and down her spine, her skin prickling as hot blood swelled beneath it.

E'kru cocked her head, the lume light highlighting her dark, thin stripes and long black tresses that swung freely from her horned crest. "You are other Ajenke."

She snorted. "Are you accusing me of being a thras'ka?"

The captain shook her head. "You not yourself. Something… smothering your spirit."

Ajenke frowned. E'kru was referring to her people's belief that a person was born with two souls. A good soul and an evil soul. They fought to influence the destiny of the person they belonged to. After death, the souls would fight to absorb the spirit of the person. Whichever was stronger determined whether a person would go onto paradise or become lost to one of the infinite hells. "I don't believe in spirits and souls, E'kru. The Goddess can't see us down here," she growled.

E'kru clicked thoughtfully, Ajenke's words having all the effect of fire trying to burn water. "Spirit is lost."

"I am not lost, I'm angry!"

"Why?"

"Because of Zara!"

"Wrong. Not angry at Zara."

Ajenke barked a growl of frustration and began pacing. "I don't know what you want me to say! Zara wants me to lead us into a slaughter pit. And _if_ we manage to survive, then we're supposed to take on the royal guard of the shan'ra!" She bared her fangs as her face twisted with resolve. "I will not sacrifice you or Zara or anyone else to make up for Neyenthul or my mother's mistakes. I will not allow you to go and I will not change my mind!"

E'kru's pupils dilated and she stared at Ajenke, mandibles slowly flexing as she softly chirped something in her childhood tongue. "I see… Ajenke afraid. Afraid of what?"

Exasperation filled her. "I am not afraid!"

"Then fight Torgrin."

"I can't lose anyone else!"

The realization hit her immediately after the words left her mouth. She _was_ afraid. Beating Torgrin wasn't impossible. They were evenly matched – she had the element of surprise, he had the advantage of being in his home territory. She squeezed her clenched fists and stared at the floor, her cowardice filling her with shame.

E'kru approached, chittering softly.

Ajenke couldn't look up at her friend. "I lost my mother, I lost Ahandra, I lost friends and… and I almost lost Rrourk. I don't want to lose anyone else."

"You no lose me or Zara. Too smart."

She looked into her captain's smiling eyes, wishing she possessed a fraction of her certainty. "I wish I could believe that. Are Neyenthul's weapons really as good as Zara preaches?"

"Not know. Go ask him now?"

"Saa. Let's hope the flowers distracted him long enough to keep him from leaving. Bastard acted like he hasn't seen a naked female since his mother gave birth to him."

E'kru gave a rare chuckle.

Ajenke smirked as she recalled the shocked look on Neyenthul's face when she'd declared she would change her mind if she could see what kind of weapons he'd promised to supply them. He'd whipped out a sleek, new plasma rifle, the organic design and black, fanged barrel impressive to behold. Within a few hours, more weapons arrived – pistols, heat seekers, scorch razors, frost bombs and more. It had been difficult not to admire the high-tech display. E'kru had been practically hypnotized by a long-barreled Hrethian sniper rifle, her hand tenderly caressing its shaft and underbelly as she familiarized herself with its weight, adjusting the rear of the gun to fit snugly against her shoulder.

Ajenke had chosen a bristling scorch razor, one shot enough to convince her of its deadly power. It was firmly attached to her back, along with extra ammo packs. Her favorite knives were strapped around her thighs, a machete sheathed at her hip, her left hand holding the blade steady by the hilt as she slid down a fallen pillar and dashed forward.

The cold twisting tunnels slowly grew warmer, the heat of Torgrin Bloodclaw's compound bleeding into the surrounding stone. Ajenke jogged to a halt and raised her fist, her warriors lining up behind her, their shallow breathing filling the chill air. She'd give them a moment to rest while E'kru scouted ahead. Her captain slipped by without a sound, the compound just a few hundred yards ahead around the curving bend.

"Seconds, report."

One by one, the secondary captains reported everyone accounted for and ready. "Mistress, now that we're not running it's becoming difficult to move. Several swords have chills and are fatigued," added Chaithra.

"Keep them moving. Don't let anyone sit or rest."

"Saa."

The comm clicked off and Ajenke focused her attention down the dark corridor, going through the attack plan again as she quietly paced back and forth. She'd left Zara behind as both punishment and reward. If she should fall, Zara would take over the Midnight Blossom. She'd objected, but Ajenke had assured her she was perfectly capable of running things. Her comm suddenly chirped.

"Mistress," whispered E'kru.

"Captain, what do you see?"

"Two bodies."

Ajenke froze. "What?"

"Both guards dead. One cut in half."

"How long have they been dead?"

"Less than one hour."

"Any sign of movement or activity?"

"Mask can't see through walls. Shielded."

Ajenke patched in the secondary captains. "Listen up! We're going in. Two guards are dead so we may run into some unexpected company. The plan remains the same. If you encounter the enemy invaders, kill on sight and leave the negotiations to me."

They acknowledged and began rousing their warriors, Ajenke running ahead to E'kru's position, her bodyguards Trel, Orsa, Nelu and Veshira close behind. Next to her captains, they were the best warriors the Midnight Swords had to offer. She'd been surprised and honored when the four of them had volunteered for the job and was glad she had them now as they picked up E'kru and charged straight for the narrow gate, the metal door blown to shreds.

Nelu and Orsa slipped in first, scouting ahead. Several more shattered bodies littered the ground, their weapons not even drawn. Whoever had hit them had hit hard and fast.

"Who did this? Xashi?" growled Veshira, her one-edged great sword primed and ready. She was the strongest female in the Midnight Sword and had latched onto the giant weapon, the huge blade and scatter gun combo irresistible.

"Too clean," rumbled E'kru, her plasma rifle humming.

Ajenke's eye's narrowed behind her mask. She didn't want to get in the middle of a gang war, but they needed to take advantage and press forward. "Our objective is Senaiath and our sisters. Let's hope our luck holds and they've wiped each other out."

Everyone grunted in agreement and pushed onward, the secondary captains and their squads just behind them. Blood and plasma scars painted the corridors, severed limbs and crushed bodies littering the ground. Chaithra and her squad encountered a Bloodclaw and quickly dispatched him. Other than that, they'd been met with no resistance.

Orsa's panicked voice suddenly broke though the comm. "Mistress! I found out who invaded the compound!"

"Who?"

"It's Captain Rrourk! He's in the center arena and holding, but he's surrounded and outnumbered at least forty to one."

Shock ripped the air from her lungs. She gripped her scorch razor tighter as her hands began to shake. Rrourk, she was going to lose Rrourk. The daka. The big, stupid, sjauk'rin daka. She'd wondered where he'd stormed off to after she'd dismissed him, but never had she thought that he might do something like this…

"Mistress, what are our orders?"

Ajenke swallowed the dryness from her throat, rage flushing through her chest. "Chaithra and Sen head to the prison hold. The rest with me to the center. We're going to catch them from behind and rip their balls off before they know what's happened."

The sounds of gun blasts and howls echoed down the halls as they raced towards the central arena. Torgrin used it to entertain other gang lords and train his bloodthirsty cronies with live victims. It was said the arena was never drained and that so much blood had been spilt that the arena floor was covered in a thick layer of red dust, the bones of the dead used to decorate the walls and ceiling.

Ahead, two growling males wrapped in skins stepped out through a door, shoving each other, arguing over which of them would take down the red giant. Plasma blasts ripped through them before they had a chance to catch their scent, their bodies dancing as steaming holes replaced vital organs and limbs. Ajenke and the Midnight Swords leapt over the pile of steaming flesh as they raced forward. Another male stepped out, his hands clutching two short scythes. Ajenke ripped out her machete and hucked it, the male gasping in surprise as her blade pierced his guts with a satisfying slurp. Trel pounced, tackling the gurgling male and slitting his throat.

Ajenke's ruby eyes glinted in the shadows as she took in the scene before her, the virus barely able to contain her heat as molten rage poured through her veins. Rrourk's defiant roars filled the arena as he fought off several attackers, dozens of cuts decorating his skin, his blood soaking the red powder that caked his feet. Bloodclaws filled the stone seats, hooting and hollering, goading their comrades to take him down, some firing shots from their pistols, uncaring if they shot a fellow gang member. Above it all sat Torgrin, more machine than flesh, a permanent mask hiding his expression.

The virus sensed the change in temperature and adjusted so that their heat signatures match the warmer surroundings. When the other three units were in place, Ajenke took her machete from Trel and sheathed it, pulling out her scorch razor, the high keen as it charged like music to her ears. "Midnight Swords… attack."

Plasma shots and grenades poured from all corners of the stadium, the Bloodclaws thrown into confusion as males dropped like flies and melted bodies splattered over the seats. Ajenke fired her scorch razor, the silver razor bullets shredding flesh and bone, their high-pitched shrieks the last thing their victims heard. Once the front line was dissolved to steaming hunks, she holstered her gun and unsheathed her machete, letting loose a howling war cry. Her warriors answered and charged, cutting down the panicking males with ease. Ajenke's machete slashed a male's face before spinning and blocking an attack from behind. The male roared as she buried a knife in his gut and he crumpled to his knees, a quick slash sending his head rolling. Cold plasma whistled by her head, a Bloodclaw dropping to the ground. She watched as another Bloodclaw dropped, the Djaidesh'erin he'd knocked down jumping to her feet and running to aid her sisters. "Good shooting E'kru."

The captain didn't answer, continuing to find targets and send plasma bolts through their skulls. Pairs of Midnight Swords dragged Bloodclaws to the ground, plasma rifles picking off males isolated from their comrades. Blood, howls and the keen of plasma filled the arena. Males wasted shots, unsure where the enemy was until it was too late. Her warriors were hazy ghosts, the glint of their weapons the only hint of where they were.

With lightning slashes, Ajenke beat a clumsy male's sword aside and buried her blade into his stomach, ripping it across his abdomen, blood spraying as it tore out of his side. The male screamed as his intestines spilled out, his clawed fingers futilely trying to shove the slippery organ back inside as he fell to his knees.

"E'kru, can you take out Torgrin?"

"Yan. Not in arena."

Ajenke growled. The coward. She hoped xashi ate him. She fought her way to the arena floor, her bodyguards clearing a path. Ajenke leapt off the wall and flipped behind a male, burying her blade into his back before continuing onward. A large, tattooed male was on top of Rrourk, his fists dripping with blood as he pounded his face with thunderous blows. Ajenke roared and charged, aiming for the male's exposed neck, both hands gripping the hilt of her blade. She raised the machete over head and swung with all her strength.

Pain jolted her arms as a powerful hand grabbed her hands, halting her swing. The male's yellow eyes burned into her. His raised his right hand and flicked his wrist, a single wristblade appearing. "Time to squeal kalai," he growled.

"E'kru! Take him out!" Ajenke gasped as she desperately tried to slip out of his iron grasp.

"Too close!"

"Do it!" She fell to the floor, the male rising to stand over her, ripping her machete away and tossing it aside. A snarled grin twisted his face. "Whores belong on their backs." Ajenke looked up at him and growled, her claws digging into the red dirt.

"I think I'll take your skull—"

A blue bolt of energy smashed through his open mandibles, disintegrating his face and leaving a gaping hole. The body stood for a moment, waiting for orders that would never come. The knees buckled and rest came tumbling after, the body hitting the ground with a heavy thump.

"What took you so long?"

"I took the shot," called Nelu from atop the arena wall.

Veshira jumped down into the ring, her thick braids flaring in anger. "You are not supposed to leave our sight!"

"I go where I please. It is you who are to follow," Ajenke growled as she stood. "E'kru, why did you not shoot… E'kru?

"Lak-lak'shura," came a weak gasp on the other end of the comm.

"E'kru, what is wrong?" Ajenke scanned the entrances for any sign of her friend.

"Nothing. We should… we should regroup with Chaithra and S-sen."

"E'kru? E'kru what's going on? E'kru!" Ajenke started towards the arena seats, Rrourk's moan stopping her. She ordered one of the seconds to find E'kru and report before kneeling by her mate. "Just what in the infinite hells do you think you were doing?" she hissed as she took in his injuries. Two of his mandibles were broken, his natural eye was swollen shut and blood was smeared over his entire face. The rest of his body was covered in slashes and deep cuts that might have kill any other yautja. But no, she picked the dumbest and most stubborn of them all. Ajenke growled, pain pinching her eyes. "Daka."

His mechanized eye clicked as it focused on her, metal claws caressing her face. "I thought I could take 'em so… so you wouldn't hafta. I knew ya didn't want to lose anyone else."

"Da'kade! You- you…" Ajenke snarled and slapped the uninjured side of his face, too pissed to yell at him. She muttered a string of curses as she dabbed Rrourk's deepest wounds with an anti-septic sealant gel.

"Sjauk!" Rrourk bellowed as she grazed his ribs, the flesh opened all the way to the bone.

"Yak'sallah," she growled softly.

A hand lightly touched her shoulder and Ajenke looked up to see Veshira's fierce mask. Her bodyguard's touch receded as she turned to look up into the stands. Ululations resounded throughout the arena, her warriors raising swords and severed heads in triumph. Dozens of Bloodclaws lay scattered over the stone steps, their blood forming small rivulets that dripped down the stone walls and fed the red dirt below.

She raised her fist, roaring long and loud, threitak warming her limbs and heart. It had been a good victory.

But at what cost? Ajenke patched into the comm net. "Report dead and injured."

"This is Tanwe. Ulura is dead and Qui'yon and E'kru are badly wounded."

Fear snapped inside her, but she pushed it down. She would worry about the captain later. "Seconds, regroup with—"

"Mistress!"

"Chiathra, you are not use the comms."

"Lak'shura! We are encountering heavy resistance outside the prison hold. We have Senaiath and a few females but we're pinned and we're out of grenades."

"I'm on my way. Hold your position until I arrive." The channel went silent. Ajenke paused for a moment and looked over her warriors, spotting the female she was looking for beneath one of the pillars. "Tanwe."

"Saa."

"You are in command until I return. Fall back into the Tunnels and tend the wounded."

"But Chaithra and Sen…"

"Leave them to me." She turned to her bodyguards and began barking orders. "Orsa. Veshira. Take Rrourk and follow Tanwe." The females were immediately at her mate's side, shouldering his massive arms and helping him to his feet. Despite his insistence that he didn't need any damn help walking, the pair carried him along, stopping every once in a while to let him catch his breath and curse when the pain became too much. Satisfied her mate would survive until she decided otherwise, Ajenke turned to her two remaining bodyguards. Though small, the brightly colored twins were incredibly fierce and agile. Ajenke enlisted a secondary captain and her pack, bringing the total number of reinforcements to eight. It was enough, she decided, to cover the two trapped packs without risking any more lives than necessary. Ulura's death was a bitter poison that she would be forced to drink the rest of her life. With her warriors gathered, Ajenke raced for the prison hold, determined that no one else would die today.

Trel and Nelu pushed ahead, cutting down any males they encountered, even a portly merchant cowardly mewling in a corner.

The sounds of blood-crazed slurs and plasma blasts grew louder, the metal grating clattering as grenade detonated. Nelu had already set up her sniper rifle one floor above, Trel acting as spotter. They waited for her signal to begin picking off the Bloodclaws, the fools not even getting behind cover as her Midnight Swords traded shots.

"Everyone, get ready to toss your grenades. Follow my lead. This will go quick."

"Shouldn't we contact the seconds?" piped up one of the Djaidesh'erin.

"Yan, Torgrin may be monitoring the comm system. Chaithra and Sen know we're coming and will know it is us." _I hope, _she silently added. Their success was dependent on how quickly they realized their sisters were rescuing them. If they didn't get out of the stairwell in time…

"Ready grenades." Two hearts beat. Four hearts beat. "Now!"

Several grenades soared into the mass of Bloodclaws. Ajenke and her warriors ducked for cover, the pings of bouncing metal lost in the roar of cannon fire.

Molten shrapnel exploded a second later, shredding flesh and melting metal, the heat of the explosions warping the walls. Ajenke leaped up and shouted, priming her scorch razor and spraying the wide corridor with shrieking bits of metal and electricity. With each bark of her rifle, Nelu took down the males still standing. Her warriors fanned out behind her, the air thundering as superheated plasma slammed into bodies and stone. "Chaithra! Sen! Get out of there!"

Djaidesh'erin poured from the darkened stairwell, four of them carrying a wounded male, his body completely limp in their arms. Plasma bolts whizzed around their heads as the males smart enough to take cover during the fight realized their prey was escaping. Nelu kept any from getting too close.

Ajenke and her warriors closed ranks as the last female made it through the corridor, Ajenke tossing another grenade as a parting gift before ducking into the hall. Trel and Nelu appeared behind her, monitoring their rear.

As they closed in on the arena, a graveled voice crackled to life over the fortresses comm network. "Kalaaaiii! Did that sky bastard send you, Mistress?! Did he screw you so well that you thought you could take me down without consequences?!" The venom in his voice was palpable. She could hear the spittle hissing from his jaws. "You will regret this, kalai! You hear me? You'll regret the day you crossed Torgrin Bloodclaw and let him live!"

They left the howling voice and its ruined fortress for the silent Tunnels, their bodies shrugging off the eternal chill as the virus broke down. When everyone was accounted for, Ajenke ordered the march back to the Midnight Blossom. The pace was slow, the groans of the injured agitating. Torgrin's last words still echoed in her mind and she half believed he would pursue them through the darkness. She reminded herself that Torgrin was a coward, his games of torture and rumors of strength worth less than a cracked bone.

By the time they made it back home, they were exhausted, her warriors stumbling through the gate. Rrourk's shieldbearers took him and Senaiath off her warriors' hands, while the wounded females went to Rrek'ne and her acolytes. Flowers crowded the hall and upper floor despite the matrons insistent shooing and threats of a double shift.

Ajenke hissed at any healer that attempted to scan her, intent on finding Neyenthul. Instead, she found Zara, adorned in sheer silk and a golden necklace. Her friend bowed her head, unable to meet Ajenke's confused gaze as she approached.

"Zara, what are you doing? Why are you dressed in silk? I thought you hated it."

"I was waiting for you. I… I have something I need to tell you." Zara tugged at her robes, shifting uncomfortably. Ajenke couldn't recall a day since she'd first handed out the female armor sets of Zara ever wearing anything else. She'd quit her duties as a flower, exclusively dedicating her time to training, hanging on Ahandra's every word as she described weapon technique and battles.

"I'm going to be bonded with Neyenthul."

Ajenke wasn't sure she'd heard that right. "You can't be serious."

Zara flushed, her face hardening. "You didn't think Neyenthul gave us all those weapons just for the sake of saving his brother? There's a cost to everything, you know that."

"Don't you dare lecture me on cost! Ulura gave her life to save his brother and E'kru nearly followed after her."

The heat building in Zara's face drained. "E'kru… is she alright?"

"She'll live," Ajenke growled. She shook her head, pain pulsing in the base of her skull. "I don't understand it. For as long as I've known you, you've wanted to be free. And now you're bonding yourself to the first male that comes along?"

"You think this is freedom?!" Zara swept her hand at room around them. "You think living in the darkness and whoring ourselves out to thieves and murderers is the life I want? The life you want? I remember when we fled the Midnight Blossom and found refuge in the jungle. For the first time in _five years_ I felt the sun on my face and heard birdsongs. The day I forced myself back into the Tunnels I swore I would get out however I could." She was trembling, her breath hitching as she confessed her most secret desire. "Neyenthul was my way out. When you were on your way to meet him, he told me about the Sky Runner's territory in the south by the sea cliffs where they raise their xora and explored sea caves as children…"

Ajenke stopped listening. This was nonsense. Her friend was out of her mind if she thought she was letting her go. She had duties, she had obligations, she had… she had to stay. "Enough Zara! You will listen to me—"

"No you will listen, Ajenke! My clan is gone. I have no one left to return to in the western plains. The Sky Runners will be my people and my children will live under the sun and stars."

"You are part of my clan! You belong with us, with your sisters, with E'kru, with…" Agonizing pain surrounded her skull in a pulsating halo and she staggered, the world turning blurry for a moment. Zara was suddenly there, her arms wrapping around her shoulders, holding her steady.

"You will always be my sister," she whispered.

"I promised myself I wouldn't lose anyone," Ajenke gasped, her body slowly going numb.

"If I'd stayed here any longer you would have," said Zara as she pulled away, Ajenke seeing her tired eyes and sunken cheeks for the first time. "A flower can't survive in darkness."

Zara's mandibles brushed hers and then she left, the tender kiss sending shards of pain through Ajenke's chest. She stood there for a long time, staring at the walls of the council chamber until the swelling in her head subsided and the sting of the farewell kiss faded.

When she finally found him, Neyenthul was kneeling over his brother's pallet, the two exchanging quiet growls. The younger Senaiath was covered in cuts and burns, half of his handsome face withered and twisted, both of his legs swollen from beatings and whips. It would not be wise to move him for at least a week.

The young Sky Runner noticed her standing in the door way, Neyenthul following his gaze, standing when he realized who she was. "Mistress, you brought my brother back alive. I am in your debt."

"A debt I expect to be paid soon," she responded mechanically, her voice hollow and hard. A numbness had spread throughout her body. It kept the pain out, kept threitak from filling her with overwhelming rage.

He tilted his head. "Saa…" He took a step closer, examining her expressionless face. "I've seen that look before. It was the same look my uncle had when he lost his son."

Warmth softly flushed her cheeks, her throat tightening. "You've taken my sister from me."

A rumble rolled through Neyenthul's chest. "Ah, so Zara told you about her proposal."

"Her proposal?"

He nodded. "It was her idea to seal the alliance between our two clans. A bold gesture," he growled, his orange eyes practically glowing with admiration. "One that would solve both of our problems. She wanted a life on the surface, while I was in need of a mate. The elders of my clan have been pressuring me for the last few years to pick a mate and sire an heir, but my luck with picking potential partners has been… poor. I was resigned to the idea until Zara offered herself to me."

Her hearts were beginning to ache. "Indeed."

"With such a generous offer I had to find a way to repay your clan. Again, Zara suggested the weapons to help you in your fight against Torgrin. And after she convinced you to accept my offer, I felt compelled to lend you our bio-camouflage technology. She is quite impressive for a female. I hope my offer was a sufficient trade since I know she was a respected warrior."

"It is quite sufficient. Ak'nandei for your assistance. May our clans continue to honor each other in the future," Ajenke managed to say without warbling. She'd been wrong about Zara. Through it all, her friend was still looking out for her, still protecting the clan, risking her future for their sake.

Neyenthul handed her a holo-scroll. "These are the battle plans. We'll go over them in more detail on the surface after you and your warriors rest. Choose up to eight warriors, if you so desire."

She squeezed the glass tube, the prospect of going up against the Thousand Blades suddenly becoming very real. Taking out Torgrin's Bloodclaws had been child's play. The High Clan was proud, disciplined and had access to the best weapons available. It was practically suicide. But like the raid on Torgrin's compound, she had advantage of surprise on her side. Whether it was enough to save her mother and restore the reputation of the midnight Blossom however, remained to be seen.

She left the brothers and sought her chambers, desperate for solitude. Zara's words haunted her mind. Hadn't she wanted the exact same thing before Sef's betrayal? The freedom to choose her own destiny? In the months since the title and responsibilities of Mistress had fallen to her she realized she'd forgotten that. She'd even treated Zara like her mother had her when she'd announced her affection for Rrourk.

Exhaustion and sorrow weighed upon her, but she couldn't sleep. Instead, she studied the scroll, hoping sleep would find eventually her.

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**Author's Note:** _Psst... did I mention I love reviews? They make me write faster XD_


	32. Slave

**Author's Note:** Two chapters in one week! Woohoo!

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**Slave**

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Raienthril's black cape whipped in the wind as he oversaw the final touches to the execution platform, silver-masked aseinan quickly adjusting vid drones and audio transmitters. They were silent and efficient, flesh and bone androids compelled by one urge – to serve the high clan or die. He barely noticed them as he gazed out at the city, the gleaming white towers and wide roads spiraling from the Star Tower bustling with frantic activity as the clans of Kuuroch prepared to welcome back their brave warriors and honored dead at dawn tomorrow._ Fools,_ he thought, a snarl twisting his face. Their blind loyalty to the high clan sickened him. If only they knew the depths of dishonor the Shan had sunken to – agreeing to re-establish the Shadow Stalker clan, sanctioning a blood treaty with an inferior race, rejecting his wisdom and casting him aside as if _he_ was the one committing heresy! Threitak burned inside him and Raienthril paced, the memory of that night humiliating.

An aseinan brushed against him and he lashed out, a satisfying crack ringing the air as the slave fell to the stone floor, its mask flying across the platform. A deep growl boiled in his gut as he stood over the female curled up on the ground, clutching at her face and shivering in fear. He enjoyed the scent – he hoped the place reeked of it once Natharrak cleansed the city of the Thousand Blades' corrupt ways. The female slowly crawled away, one hand covering her face to avoid disrespecting him further, the other aseinan continuing to work as if the incident had never happened.

Slaves were clanless and were unworthy of names or faces. _Like the dishonored dead_, thought Raienthril as he watched the aseinan disappear from sight. Soon, no one would dare to whisper the name of the Thousand Blades. A hundred years from now, no one would care.

The thought of Natharrak and his plan sent a thrill through him, his anger morphing into arousal. He left the balcony in search of the female who'd dare touch him, giving up after realizing none of the worthless sekfets possessed a personal scent.

Frustrated, he was about to return to his quarters when the great horns rumbled through the Star Tower and Raienthril immediately changed direction, heading up to the Star Court. Someone truly important had just arrived and dared summon the Shan's three kalai. He managed to slip in before the doors closed and took his place amongst the other advisors to the side, keeping to the back so as not to be noticed.

His eyes widened in surprise as he took in the two figures standing at the forefront of the entourage. Asharah and Gaidulus, the ka'ii of Kuuroch, standing together. This wasn't right— they were supposed to be enemies. From what he'd managed to glean during his brief conversations with Natharrak, Asharah was supposed to be on trial, locked away for heresy. Raienthril flexed his claws in anxiety, wanting to leave but unable to do so. The Master should know.

The doors opened again and every head turned expectantly. Rumbles and hisses erupted as Sorruk crossed the raised dais and descended the steps to meet with the high priest and priestess. Raienthril smirked as an indignant flush bloomed across Asharah's face. Gaidulus at least managed a curt nod as the general bowed in greeting, his grim face taut with anger. He edged closer, wanting to hear every word.

"The shan'ra send you greetings, honored ka'ii. Had they known you were coming they would have welcomed you personally. I have been sent to hear your message and deliver it to them myself." The general looked uncomfortable, forced into the awkward position of not only announcing the shan'ra's insult but also defending it.

Gaidulus cleared his throat. "We are honored by your service, general. Please let the shan'ra know that it is vital we meet with them as soon as possible." He handed Sorruk a scroll, the encrypted seal one of the strongest Raienthril had ever seen. One look at it and the general stood a little taller, the importance of the message giving him direction. He bowed again and was about to leave, when he froze mid-step, staring at something or someone behind the ka'ii. Raienthril craned his neck for what it might be. Other than the bodyguards, he did not see anyone else of importance.

Sorruk gestured, a hint of anger in his voice. "The female. What is she doing with you?"

The ka'ii parted slightly and a female stepped forward. She was pale and thin, a dazed look on her face as she approached the general. Raienthril did not recognize her, but she seemed important. Sorruk hissed orders into his wrist comm.

Asharah suddenly stepped forward and pulled the female back. "Ahandra is staying with us. If Jaiendra wants her so badly, she can come and get her herself."

Raienthril stiffened, the hackles along the back of neck rising. The thras'ka! How had she escaped the tower? And why was she so important to the ka'ii? He glanced around for a quick exit, his patience wearing thin. The Master must know what the ka'ii were up to.

"The female is under the protection of the Shan and is to remain secured, as promised by the treaty. Unless you have deemed her impure, you have no authority to withhold her."

The kai looked surprised by the general's knowledge of the purity laws and she looked to Gaidulus. He said nothing, a soft shake of his head indicating there was nothing either of them could do. Asharah snarled and relinquished her grip on the thras'ka's arm, Sorruk pulling her towards himself. "You have a security breach, general," the kai hissed. "Captain Tcharr was in charge of her protection. You might want to ask him how she could go missing for two days and he fail to notice."

With that the ka'ii left, leaving a stunned Sorruk in their wake. Two guards took the thras'ka and dragged her away, while Sorruk angrily marched out the opposite side.

Raienthril followed at a discreet distance, flexing his claws as anxiety frayed his mind. The scroll, he had to know what was on that scroll. He could kill Sorruk and take it! No, no, he was no match for a general. Maybe steal it when no one was looking? But the shan'ra were surrounded by layers of guards at all times. He halted at the top of the stairs, wringing his hands as he watched Sorruk march farther and farther away. He took a halting step forward, then back, growling in frustration. What should he do?! He stole into a side hall and activated the comm beacon hidden inside a necklace Natharrak had given him for emergency purposes only. The crystal embedded in the tear shaped pendant pulsed crimson as it waited for a connection. Suddenly the crystal's light burned bright and steady, the Master's voice echoing from the other side.

"Raienthril, why have you summoned me?"

The young Red Claw's hearts were beating so fast his hands were shaking. "Master, the plan is threatened. The ka'ii were here just moments ago, demanding to see the shan'ra…" He waited, hoping.

"Go on."

A thrill leapt through him. "The shan'ra sent Sorruk instead. The ka'ii did not say why they had come, only that the general give the shan'ra a secured scroll and that they meet as soon as possible. And there's one other thing. They had the Shadow Stalker's thras'ka with them and Asharah said that the general should question Captain Tcharr on how she escaped." His breath had become shallow. The silence as he waited for the Master to respond was torturous.

"I see… you have done well, Raienthril. Very well."

Pleasure exploded at the base of his brain and electricity coursed through his veins, bringing him to his knees. He could vaguely hear the Master continuing to praise him, promising him glory and power. Everything slowly went dark and the next thing he knew he was standing in one of the giant hanging gardens that were suspended between the hundreds of crystal spires. He was in the midnight blossom garden he realized as he stepped out from beneath the trees and onto the stone pathway. No one else was here since the flowers only bloomed during the dry season when the moons were out. Thunder echoed across the empty gardens, the orange light of the second sun Iren fading over the western horizon. Raienthril spun at the sound a dry twig cracking, reaching for his sword and growling at whoever had snuck up on him.

"I was wondering when you'd awaken," rumbled a male, his elegant armor marking him a captain of the Thousand Blades.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Raienthril hissed, his hand still on his blade, ready to unsheathe it at the slightest hint of aggression. _And how in the infinite hells did I get here?_

The male's crimson eyes glinted in the dark, his expression intense and hard. "I am Captain Tcharr and I am here to thank you."

His grip on his sword relaxed. "Thank me? For what?"

The captain pulled out a scroll and Raienthril instantly recognized it. "Is that… the scroll the kai gave the general?"

"Indeed," Tcharr rumbled, proffering an end towards him.

Raienthril took it, noticing dark specks coating the glass shell. He smeared one and brought his fingers to his mouth, inhaling. "This is blood," he growled, looking up at the warrior. He merely nodded.

"Natharrak informed me of what you told him. I found Sorruk, killed him and took the scroll. So far the shan'ra have no idea he or the scroll is missing. By the time they realize he's gone the ceremonies will be underway and it will be too late."

Raienthril handed him back the scroll, noting that the seal had been opened. "You serve the Master as well? But are you not one of the Thousand Blades?"

Tcharr stared at him, his lack of expression unnerving. "I am whatever Natharrak requires me to be. For now, I am a captain of the royal guard."

"Are there more of us here?"

"We are wherever he wills."

"And what does he want for me to do next?"

"You will be contacted shortly after the signal is given. It will begin at dawn tomorrow." The warrior turned and walked away, disappearing beneath the low canopied path, leaving Raienthril with unasked questions. A giddy anxiety filled him at the prospect of exacting revenge so soon and he doubted he would be able to sleep tonight.

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**'/- ;. -|,**

* * *

Ajenke watched the storm roll in from the north over the low mountains, the flashes of lightning like the flashing strobes used in the Red Room. It was near dawn and preparations were almost complete. Once the storm swept across Kuuroch they would use its cover to shield their approach to the Star Tower. Neyenthul was pleased by the storm— it was large and would last for at least a day if not longer. It would merge with another coming in from the south. The winds would be hell, he'd said, but nothing his Sky Runners couldn't handle.

"Admiring the view?"

Ajenke rolled her eyes and continued to stare out across the city, the pale crystal spires glowing violet beneath the weeping gaze of Sa'arezan. The Sky Runner's tower offered an impressive view.

Neyenthul stood next to her, arms crossed.

"What do you want?"

"Still angry at me for keeping Zara out of the fight?"

"Nowhere near as angry as she is. Good luck breeding her if you return."

"Oh, I intend to return. If I didn't then she goes to Senaiath and he's too young to appreciate a female so experienced in the art of… pleasure."

Ajenke huffed. "I doubt that. Zara was never really invested in her performance. She was what the other flowers would politely refer to as a bud."

"A bud?"

She nodded. "A bud usually refers to a young female training to become a flower. You learn how to read clients and give them what they want. Some even learn to enjoy their work. But in Zara's case… she was the sort of female that accepted her work but didn't… participate."

Neyenthul nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"So if you thought you'd just lay down and enjoy the show I'm afraid you picked the wrong female. Now if you put a sword in her hand and asked to spar, she'd be much more responsive," Ajenke chittered.

"I'll keep that in mind," he rumbled as he watching the storm slowly draw closer and closer, shrouding the northern edge of the city in a curtain of dark rain. "So tell me, Mistress," he clicked as he turned away from the window and leaned against it. "Since I couldn't dissuade you from coming, who are these lovely females distracting my warriors down there?"

Ajenke looked down at her warriors as they checked their gear and rested. They maintained their distance from the Sky Runners as they went about their duties but that didn't stop the males from eyeing them from time to time. "E'kru, the one with the long hair and dark green skin, is my other captain. She was— is Zara's best friend. They complemented each other. E'kru is level-headed and prefers a rifle to close combat. My bodyguards you've already met. The other three are my best secondary captains." She pointed them out for him "The one with short locks and fallow skin lounging next to Veshira is Tanwe. The sepia-skinned female with tattoos is Chaithra. And the small, splotchy one next to her sharpening her axes is Sen. They were one of the first to volunteer when I created the Midnight Swords."

"I'm surprised Rrourk isn't here. I can't imagine him letting you go without him."

Ajenke sighed. "I told Rrek'ne, our Matron of Healing, to drug him. It will wear off in a few hours _if_ I'm lucky."

"And if you're not?"

"My mate will wake up in about an hour, destroy the healing center and get here before we take off."

Neyenthul chuffed. "Reminds me of the berserk clans from the western city of Va'yithya. They are infamous for their short tempers and voracious appetites. Do you know where the captain is from?"

Ajenke shook her head. "My mother found him and bought him, same as almost everyone else you see below. He's never said anything and I've never asked."

"Hmm… well, let us pray to the Creators he sleeps long enough for us to take off before dawn," he said as he slowly walked away. "Your mother is to be executed as soon as Feiren breaks the horizon, though I doubt we'll see his light through the storm."

"Where are you going?"

He looked back at her, a wry smile tugging at his mandibles. "To bed Zara. My uncle and the elders have been hounding me ever since the blood bonding ceremony a few hours ago. Not sure what they'll do if I don't. Their threats weren't very specific," he mused.

Ajenke huffed, wishing her friend the best of luck with that fool as he quickly made his way down the steps and strode across the room. If he were smart he would stay far away from Zara for at least a day. But he was male. And like all males when it came to mating they were stupid.

She thought of Rrourk and how pissed he would be when he woke up. She didn't see how any amount of dancing or mating would get her out of trouble this time. Ajenke pondered her options. She could quit taking her herbs and let her blood flow. Having a baby might settle both of them down. He would expect a son, although she was sure any daughter of her line could wrestle just as well as a male child.

Zara's last words rose to the surface and Ajenke tried to picture her children's future. Would her daughter be Mistress one day? Would her son take over the shield guardians? Did she want her children raised in the nightmarish world of the Tunnels?

Her gaze flicked to the base of the Star Tower, her mother hidden somewhere far below the surface. She wondered what her mother would think of her thoughts. One thing was for sure— first she had to survive and then she could start planning her future.

* * *

**'\. \| ,'-**

* * *

"This is troubling news," said the shrouded figure, his voice distorted. "If Shaidra-shan acquires the sword of the prophet he will rally the other city states against us." The small hologram folded its hands inside its robes. "You are certain your information is accurate?"

"My spies have been situated in the heart of the Star Court for months now. I assure you, every word I have said is true."

"How can we trust you to deal with the situation? You are a sharin'atharr after all and we did not intercede on your clan's behalf."

Natharrak smiled behind his mask. "We have been planning our vengeance for years. All that I ask is that your clan do what you are best at: nothing."

If the figure was offended, he did not show it. "Can you guarantee that Shaidra will fall?"

"Saa."

"And the sword?"

"Will be delivered to you the day after tomorrow."

The robed figured straightened. "Very well. But be warned, the High Clan of Ashann does not forgive. Should you prove treacherous, your torment will last as long as we deem to keep you alive." The transmission ended and Natharrak removed his mask.

"Nadurak." His assistant knelt beside his chair, eagerly awaiting his instruction. "Tell our brothers to begin Phase I."

"At once master." Nadurak quickly limped away. He paused by the door. "Master?"

"Hmm?"

"What about… the children?"

Natharrak's face hardened. "Destroy them. They do not need to suffer any longer."

* * *

**'/- ,-' |;**

* * *

Ahandra hugged herself, her claws digging into her flesh as she fought the urge to sleep, jumping to her feet and pacing to keep from laying her head against the wall or her knees. The guards had taken the last dosage she needed to stay awake and repress the visions. All she had left was her will and it was fading fast.

The seconds ticked by, each minute slower than the last and it felt like an eternity till dawn.

She needed Saira. The elder could give her something or talk to her. Anything to keep her awake. Ahandra walked over to the door and raised her fist to beat on it. She hesitated and looked back at the bundle tucked into the corner of the pallet. Pounding on the door might wake him up. As if on cue, the pile of blankets began to move, soft mewls calling out for her. The cries grew louder and more insistent, the fact that he was hungry and alone unacceptable. Despite his squalling, Ahandra hung back, afraid. To feed him she had to remain still. She'd been up for almost three days. If she remained still…

Seinu's cries finally became unbearable and she crawled onto the pallet, her hands shaking as she clumsily picked him up and set him in her lap. After several failed attempts she removed her top, groaning as her swollen breasts fell free. Her son latched on without any assistance, suckling with gusto. Ahandra nodded, the sound of Seinu's nursing soothing. She leaned against the wall, her burning eyelids drooping, slowly closing and opening until she no longer had the strength or desire to open them again.

When she finally did, the world was burning. Lightning crashed from the sky and thunderous explosions rocked the earth. Roiling clouds mixed with smoke rained black tears upon the city. The false Auran stood at the end of the street, the bodies of warriors, females and children strewn around him. Suddenly Natharrak was beside him, whispering something in his ear. Not-Auran looked straight at her, plasma cannon coming to life. Natharrak took a step back. Even though his face was shrouded in darkness, she knew he was smiling. Tracking lasers crawled up her chest and face, resting between her eyes. She closed them, hoping that when they opened she would be back with Seinu and the real Auran would be there, holding her in his arms.

* * *

**Another note: **Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews last chapter. Always feels good to get responses on chapters no matter how many you post. I'm shutting down the poll, one because I said I would and two because ya'll don't seem to like polls (only three people voted). Of the ten characters to choose from, Ahandra came in first with two votes and Rrourk came in a respectable second with one. I guess that means I have to kill off the rest since no one likes them... I kid of course ;)

**Yet another note: **I couldn't help myself, I made another poll XD Check out my profile page to vote. I also update my profile every few days on how the next chapter is going and when it might be posted. Can't wait for Chapter 33!


	33. Starfall

**Author's Note:** I was skimming over older chapters I'd posted to refresh my memory when I realized I might have caused some confusion over two characters. In the chapter Spear I mentioned Auran's mother and called her Nyrendi. Later on when the Mistress' real name was revealed, I also named her Nyrendi. Now I know two people can share the same name, but for the sake of differentiation, Auran's mother will now be referred to as Issedra. Sorry for the mix up.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Is'drasil** – eess-DRAH-sill

**Zaiyra** – zai-EIR-ah

* * *

**Starfall**

* * *

The cloying stench of blood and piss had long lost its potency. Instead, the bitter tang of regret clung to her like a second skin, its cold weight even more unbearable than the suffering she'd experienced in the endless night of her prison. She deserved the pain. She accepted it. But the regret… the regret had burrowed deep inside her bones, sapping her of her strength and sanity. A hollow void had replaced her hearts, each unwanted breath a reminder that she was alive. Nyrendi lay curled up in the corner where her tormentors had left her… hours before. Maybe days. She raised her head from her knees, her eyes searching the darkness for the sound she'd thought she'd heard. Another prisoner howling in agony? Or perhaps she was hallucinating again. A muffled scream sounded in the darkness, beating against the walls. Unbidden, the image of her daughter, screaming as Sef plunged his blade into her body, helpless to fight back because she'd tied her up, filled her mind. Nyrendi rocked back and forth, the mantra of regret pouring from her soul. _It's my fault. It's my fault. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…_

She was in one of the infinite hells. She had to be. Why else the eternal darkness, the endless parade of sins and might-have-been's.

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know…_

Trapped in a black box with no way to right her wrongs. Unable to beg Shaidra for forgiveness, to kiss and hold him and show him his daughter, his beautiful daughter that looked just like him, acted like him – brave, defiant, arrogant, honorable. Her daughter's face, the face that once haunted her in life because of her father, now haunted her in death, hating her, dying over and over, all because she'd been blinded by revenge! Nyrendi's breath became shallow and she squeezed her eyes shut, grabbing the sides of her head as pain burned into her skull. Her silent screams filled her mind, the pain intensifying with each gasp of noxious air.

Metal scraped against metal, followed by the sound of footsteps. Before she could curse the demons who'd interrupted her grieving, ice cold water smashed into her, flaying her skin as it the pressure drove her deeper into the corner. She tried to crawl away, her skin pricking painfully as her scales hardened against the cold, slowing her movement. The water followed her, shoving her against a wall. "Hold still, kalai!" A gloved hand jerked her to her feet and slammed her back against it. Once his rubbery grip disappeared, the icy spray returned, roaming her body to cleanse her of filth. Rubber Gloves returned a moment later, twisting her around. Nyrendi lashed out, her claws sparking as they grazed the edge of his mask. "Kalai!" he grabbed her dreadlocks and slammed her face into the wall, the force of the blow nearly causing her to faint. Razor cold water bit into the back of her thighs and she howled in pain and outrage. "Keep sprayin— Hey! Her, not me, sjauk'rin goran'lok!"

A dark chuckle was the only reply. A sharp click and the water diminished to a sluggish drizzle, spattering the floor. Another click and it stopped. Violent shivers racked her body and Nyrendi fell to her knees, exhausted. "Time to eat, kalai." She could hear Dark Laughter shoving the food gel into the mechanism used to force feed prisoners. A long time ago, when she'd refused to eat, hoping to starve herself to death, they'd clamped the painful device to her face, shoving the rotten, pasty goo down her throat every damn day, not even giving her the option to eat the shit they usually slid under the door.

She growled. _Why don't you just let me die?! _Dark Laughter chuckled again, the deep rumble sending more shivers through her. The metal feeder was suddenly shoved against her face, slamming the back of her head into the wall. Metal claws grasped her face, flattening and forcing her mandibles apart. A long rubber tube pushed passed her fangs and slid down her throat. She choked and gagged, clawing at the feeder, desperate for air. Once the sickening sludge was deposited into her stomach, Dark Laughter withdrew the machine. "Don't throw up or I'll just feed you again."

Nyrendi bent double and retched, hand clamped over her mouth to keep her body from purging the slime. When she'd finally quit moaning the pair grabbed her by her arms and drug her out of the cell. The hallway's faint red light burned her eyes and she staggered, disoriented, still holding back the urge to vomit. The guards pulled her along, growling for her keep up.

Whether it was the icy bath or the puss they'd shoved down her throat, the cobwebs clouding her mind quickly lifted. Something was happening. She changed hands and was led higher. A black, faceless mask was fitted on her face while her wrists were tightly bound in front of her with leather rope. Heavy footsteps approached and she was shoved forward between what she guessed were two armored guard columns. She sniffed, the sharp scents of leather, oil and male making her rumble. These weren't Thousand Blades. These were arbiters— elite by the sound of the decorative armor and weapons clinking by their sides. The columns glided forward, a large hand guiding her by the back whenever she slowed or began to wander sideways. Soft whispers and clicks filled the air around her. Nyrendi guessed the room was large judging by the echoes, which meant she must be in one of the grand halls of the Star Tower. With each step, the distant sound of thunder slowly drowned out the murmured conversation, the scent of rain filling her mouth. She breathed deeply, its sweet taste the best thing she'd smelled in weeks.

The air trembled as thunder rolled across the sky and Nyrendi shivered as she stepped through a warm curtain of water, the soft roar of the rain drowning out all other sound. The guard that had been guiding her roughly pulled her by the shoulders until she was positioned in front of a pole. For a second she was free of her bonds and she entertained the thought of running. A foolish idea. She was blind, naked and surrounded by arbiters. The guard pulled her hands behind the pole, metal cuffs snapping around her wrists.

_So I finally get my wish. I'm finally going to die, _she thought, leaning her head back and listening to the muffled pitter-patter of rain beat against her mask.

The imminent reality of her death both soothed and terrified her. Would she return to that dark hole in the next life? Or would she fade into oblivion and forget everything, both the good and the bad? Either way, she doubted that if higher powers did exist that they would grant her access to paradise. She was doomed to suffer. Jaiendra had won. The thought of the shan'ra and her gloating smile sparked a small flame of anger with her chest. She wished she were male. Then she could ask for the right to take her own life or duel her accuser. Instead, she had to wait to die, her throat slit like a sacrificial animal.

A voice, clear and strong, cut through the storm's rage, echoing through the loudspeakers placed around the area. "Kuuroch'ii! On this day, justice and honor will be served. A cycle ago, a brave contingent of Thousand Blades' warriors stormed an underground fortress within the dark tunnels beneath the city. They successfully captured, alive, one of the Shan's greatest enemies." He paused, the rumble of the crowd mixing with the distant thunder. His cape rustled as he stepped back and gestured to her. "I give you the Mistress of the Midnight Blossom!"

Roars of approval and hate filled the air. Nyrendi was unfazed, more concerned with why there was an audience in the first place. She'd been in that hole three months. Which meant the Shan and the city's warriors were returning today. Threitak burned inside her as she recalled Jaiendra's promise.

_Don't worry. I won't let him see you in such a state. I'll kill you before he returns._

_You bitch. _She growled, wishing she could cut her pretty face and then stab her over and over, just like the shan'ra had so gleefully described Sef doing to her daughter. Then she could truly die in peace. As for Shaidra… Nyrendi's throat grew tight. Whatever affection they'd felt when they were young had likely grown cold by now. She'd done too much for him to forgive, even if it was all based on a misunderstanding. Goddess, how many times had she tried to kill him?

"Let her serve as a warning to all those who defy the blood laws and dishonor this great city. With her death," she perked up at the sound of a knife sliding from a sheath. "And the death of the demons that poison the night sky, we greet the dawn of a better future."

Despite her resolve, her hearts beat against her ribcage and threitak burned her lungs, her breath harsh and loud inside the darkness of her mask. _I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh Goddess, I'm so sorry._

Thunder cracked, a strange, lonely cry piercing the rain. She sensed the arbiter hesitate. A moment later, the ground exploded in a hail of plasma blasts.

* * *

**-'/, | -\- ';.**

* * *

**Earlier that morning…**

Rain pounded against the energy shields around the kai's private chambers, white arcs of lightning illuminating the dark red city. Asharah stared out the window, anxious and unable to sleep, her dreams filled with despair. The shan'rai had not contacted her and this troubled her and Gaidulus. They should've received some sort of message by now. Had Jaiendra ignored the message? Or was she arrogant enough to think she did not need their help? She growled and returned to her table, the scriptures scattered about from her earlier search for spiritual comfort. All hope now rested on the Shan returning and putting a stop to Natharrak's plan before it was too late.

A soft rumble alerted her to Rage's presence just inside the doorway and she waved him in, amused at his gift. Her bodyguard set the steaming cut in front of her, the scent of honeyed herbal tea filling the room. "A priestess brought this. She said Zaiyra requested it be made for you."

Asharah smiled and leaned her head on her hand, tracing the delicate engravings encircling the goblet with a claw. "She's a good student. I wouldn't be surprised if she is chosen to succeed me."

"The priestess also asked when you would like to get ready. Dawn is only a few hours away."

Asharah sipped the amber-colored brew, thinking as it slid down her throat and warmed her stomach. There was a strong, bitter aftertaste. "Hmm… soon, I should think. Gaidulus wants to be early and thinks we should go stand together when the Shan arrives. Where are Ghost and Venom?" she asked as she stood.

"Checking security measures. No one will be allowed in or out today and the guards will be placed on high alert."

"Good, good—" Asharah staggered, her hand grabbing the table for support, her legs suddenly feeling weak.

"Are you all right?" Rage stood where he was, watching her closely, his hands clasped behind his back.

It suddenly hurt to breath. "Saa-a. I'm just tired. Probably pushed myself too hard. Gaidulus told me I should meditate more," she tried to joke, forcing a pained smile. Her smile faded as her throat began to close up. She crumpled to the floor a second later, wheezing.

Rage calmly rolled her over onto her back, his fingers caressing her face.

"Ra… ra-a…"

"Shh. You will die quickly."

Asharah's mandibles mouthed the word 'why', her body slowly going limp as a paralysis took hold. The warmth drained from her face, violet spreading over her high cheeks and forehead.

"Because I am whatever Natharrak needs me to be."

Her eyes widened, a soft exhale escaping her throat.

"Do you remember the day Firak showed you the secret library beneath the God's temple? When you returned, your faithful bodyguard Rage ran to assist his brothers who had been taken by surprise. He ran ahead and chased after the killer." He rumbled at the memory. "He hesitated when he saw that his opponent was his own self. It was all I needed to kill him. My accomplice destroyed the body and I returned to you in his place, begging to die for my failure, just as the true Rage would have."

The kai's eyes had begun to close, but even now he could sense her fighting the effects of the poison. He chuffed softly. "Strange. But if the traitor and the female hadn't barged in the night that Gaidulus had come to take you away, you might have survived a little longer."

After a moment, the Shadow Stalker stood, the kai's body beginning to grow cold. There was one more part to his mission and then he could join his brothers in a glorious death. He left the kai's chambers, locking the doors behind him and heading down to the main sanctuary. When he was certain no one was around, he silently slipped inside.

The kai's nine acolytes sat on a raised dais in a semi-circle at the feet of the ivory statue of the Goddess, heads bowed as they meditated on the prophecy. In Her hands the Goddess held the balance of life and death, the two realities represented by a sphere of swirling, crystal clear water floating above Her right palm and a blazing ball of fire dancing in Her left. White dreadlocks fell below Her waist, an elegant crest blooming from Her forehead. Her eyes were closed and mandibles set in solemnity.

He quietly drew his sword, his pupils dilating as he focused on his targets. No sound escaped the leather soles of his sandals as he crept forward, his breathing steady and his mind clear. With a quick slice, he severed the spine of the acolyte on far right-hand side of the semi-circle, several of her locks falling to the ground as her body slumped sideways. The next one went just as quickly. Then K'chiya, the youngest, looked up and saw him.

"Rage?" she chirped. "What are you doing?"

He glanced at her, then sliced the head off the third target. K'chiya screamed as the fourth target's head fell into her lap. Damn. He'd hoped to give them all clean deaths. The fifth target looked up in time to see a dark blur, the blade slicing through her skull and killing her instantly. The sixth was trembling and began screaming as he drew closer, futilely shielding herself with her small arms. Blood sprayed from her headless torso as he hacked off her head with several quick blows. The three remaining targets were screaming, one girl grabbing the wailing K'chiya and running for the doors. The other ran straight towards him, begging him to stop. A quick slash across her chest knocked her to the ground. He unstrapped his magnipulse rifle and aimed, taking out the young female with a single shot. K'chiya struggled from underneath the body, mewling in panic. Another shot and the room went silent.

The Shadow Stalker surveyed the trail of bodies he'd left behind, a strange disquiet filling him. He ignored the feeling and powered off his rifle and sheathed it, picking up his sword and cleaning the blood from the blade. Now, to the Star Tower where—

The sanctuary doors boomed open, an enraged Ghost standing in the archway, the red eyes of his mask blazing with fury. Ragged, metallic growls echoed from behind it, the mechanized warrior trembling in rage. The Shadow Stalker quickly unstrapped his magnipulse rifle, priming the plasma and aiming as the guardian ripped his sword from his sheath and charged, his roar echoing throughout the entire temple.

The ancient warrior dodged several white hot plasma blasts, two tearing through part of his shoulder and arm, but still he ran forward, quickly closing the distance between them. Zarrath dropped the gun and quickly unsheathed his darkblade, bringing it up just in time to block Ghost's powerful strike. He stumbled back from the force of the blow, the blood from the acolytes causing him to lose his footing. Blows rained down on him, the mechanized warrior's silver sword crackling with white energy with each strike. Deep cuts bit into his flesh, the vicious assault unrelenting. Zarrath's heel clipped something and he fell back onto the feet of the Goddess.

Ghost beat his clumsy defense aside, the warrior crying out as his silver sword ripped through his armor and chest. He smashed his foot down on Zarrath's bloody stomach and shoved the silver blade through his open mouth, his defiant howl dying in his throat.

Air hissed from Ghost's pressure circuits as his chest heaved ragged breaths, rage still pouring through his veins. Sparks spit from the melted gashes carved into his armor, his left arm losing mobility as his adrenaline faded and the override commands expired. As blood and brain oozed onto the Goddess' feet he ripped his sword out from the body and dragged it away from the statue. He looked around at the broken bodies of the acolytes and let loose an unearthly howl of pain and fury, grief tearing through what flesh remained inside his metallic shell. He'd killed too quickly. He wanted to rend the body into a million pieces. Burn it to ash and toss into the sun. Ghost picked up the body and tossed it off the dais, away from the Goddess and pure blood of the young priestesses.

Temple guardians suddenly burst through the doors, shocked hisses and angry shouts filling the air as they took in the scene. Venom pushed passed them stopping at the foot of the dais where Ghost stood amongst the dead acolytes. "Ghost! What happened?!" He glanced around the bodies, growling in fury. "Who did this?! Is Asharah safe?"

Ghost stared down at his fellow guardian. "Asharah is dead," the words tasted bitter on his tongue. "A Shadow Stalker infiltrated our ranks and assumed the form of Rage. I killed him but… I was too late to save the acolytes," he continued, his metallic voice hitching slightly, their broken bodies seared into his perfect memory. The girls had treated the kai's bodyguards like extended family, K'chiya often referring to them all as 'uncle.' Curses and oaths rang out, swords smashing against shields as the temple guards swore vengeance. Priestesses, drawn by the noise, stood at the edge of the sanctuary, confused by the smells of anger and blood. Ghost could care less. He had failed again. There was only one path, one way to redeem what shred of honor he had left. His hand tightened on the hilt of his blade as he prepared to take his life.

Then, on the edge of his enhanced hearing, barely a whisper, he heard a soft moan. "Silence!" he roared. He listened again, his red gaze sweeping the bodies. Venom cocked his head, also listening. The soft mewl sounded again and his hearts leapt. Ghost darted to Zaiyra's side, Venom close behind. He scanned her limp form, a deep gash blooming across her chest. She was barely conscious and had lost a great deal of blood. But she was alive and that was all that mattered. Venom began barking orders for the guardians to tell the healers to prepare and for the rest to sweep the temple for any intruders. Ghost gently rolled her onto her back, spraying white sealant foam onto her chest to staunch the blood loss. He prayed for the first time in decades. He'd lost two ka'ii. He couldn't lose a third.

* * *

**'-\ ',\ \'- **

* * *

Long ago, it was said that the first xora were born from a storm that swept the entire continent of Is'drasil for nine days. Their bodies were made of lightning, their wings crafted from thunder and their dark feathers taken from the roiling black clouds that darkened the sky. The cries of the xora are believed to summon the storms that sweep the eastern forests for an entire cycle, bringing life to the parched earth for another year. It was also said that a person who could tame a xora was blessed by the God. But as Ajenke listened to Neyenthul and his Skyrunners whoop and holler as they took off from the hidden aviary, or ouru, she realized only a madman would try to ride such a creature.

White claws of lightning raked the black sky, thunder soaring over the city, bellowing its fury and thrashing the land below with sharp gusts of wind and rain. Against the storms wrath, the stormbirds flew, dark shadows silently flying through the misty clouds. Ajenke clung to Neyenthul, wondering for the thousandth time what in the infinite hells she was doing. She'd kept her eyes shut most of the way, terrified at how high up they were. She flinched and squeezed Neyenthul harder as thunder exploded around them, the prick of static electricity rippling over her scales. His voice crackled to life over the comm and she could practically hear him smirking. "Having second thoughts?" Ajenke growled but didn't answer, relaxing her hold a fraction. Neyenthul laughed and she could feel the xora's wing beats speed up, the rains pelting her mask and soaking her skin. "We're going to gain some altitude. We have to time it just right."

"Understood." She opened her eyes and stared into the dark void, lightning illuminating the grey layers of clouds in webs of searing fire and ethereal beauty. Were she not surrounded by the threat of death she would have marveled. A bolt of lightning streaked close by, the concussive blast of thunder rattling her bones. She squeezed Neyenthul harder and shut her eyes, adrenaline flooding her body and turning her arms and legs to jelly. _I hate flying. I hate storms. I hate Neyenthul. I hate myself…_

"Skyrunners!" Neyenthul called out over the comm. "Prepare to dive on my mark." His warriors acknowledged him. "Ready… Dive! Dive! Dive!"

For a brief moment Ajenke's stomach disappeared as the xora slowed. Then the stormbird plummeted to the earth, lightning cracking and hissing in a thunderous cacophony as it streaked through the sky like a dark missile. "Oh dear Goddeeeessss!" she screamed as they fell. Rain spattered against her body, the leather straps straining to hold her to the creature flying almost as fast an aircraft. She forced herself to open her eyes and saw that they had broken the cloud line and were plunging straight towards the Star Tower.

"Snipers break for the side towers. Riders prepare for strafing runs," Neyenthul ordered.

Ajenke watched two large shadows below peel away to take up perches. Only she and Neyenthul would land on the platform. They had been the last to dive, the other six teams diving before them to provide cover fire. "Djaidesh'erin! Prime plasma rifles," she ordered. Two heartsbeats, four heartsbeats, six heartsbeats. Her shallow breath filled her ears, the execution platform coming closer and closer. She could see her mother. The arbiter was closing in on her for the final strike. "Neyenthul!"

"I see it!" Something cracked and the xora cried out. The arbiter hesitated. Several arbiters were gazing up at the sky.

"Djaidesh'erin fire!"

The platform exploded in a hail of fire and silver shards, tossing stone and shredded flesh in every direction. Ajenke jerked forward as Neyenthul pulled back on the reins, his xora skidding to a halt, its scythe-like claws scrabbling for a foothold on the bloody stone. She quickly unlatched herself and jumped from the bird, nearly tumbling as gusts from the xora's mighty wings slammed into her, Neyenthul diving off the platform and swooping low above the crowd before climbing back into the sky. He'd return after the second strafe when she had her mother.

Arbiters lay in heaps on the ground, some dead or unconscious, others in shock or running for cover. She ran to where her mother was tied up. "Mother!" She didn't answer. Maybe the explosions had disoriented her. Ajenke moved behind to cut her bonds, cursing when she saw they were metal. There wasn't much time. Her mind raced and she looked around. An arbiter ran towards her, sword raised. A second later his head exploded as either E'kru or Trel took him out. A curse made her turn around, the arbiter that had been about to execute her mother rising to his hands and knees. He wore a golden helm and black cape, a golden flame set into his black breastplate. But what caught her eye were the elaborate amulets and engravings. This was no ordinary arbiter. This was the Chief Arbiter, the Lord of Justice and Keeper of the Blood Laws. If anyone had the key it would be him.

Ajenke charged and kicked him in the face, pouncing on top of him and wrestling him to the ground, clawing at his belt as she searched for the key. "Where is it?! Give me the key!" The arbiter cursed her and fought to throw her off. Ajenke grabbed his cape and wrapped his head in it, locking her arms around his neck. "Tell me where it is or I'll kill you!"

Two cracks sounded in the distance and two bodies dropped behind her.

"Ajenke!" Neyenthul shouted into her comm. "The key is his thumb!"

A thumb lock. Chjit. She rolled the struggling arbiter onto his stomach and pinned his arms to the ground with her knees, grabbing his left hand with her own while she unsheathed her knife. The arbiter screamed as she sliced through bone, blood spurting from the small stump on his hand. Ajenke grabbed the digit and bolted for her mother, the snipers taking out two more arbiters. She pressed the thumb into the middle of the cuffs, praying it would work. The contraption beeped and clicked open and she tossed the disgusting piece of flesh away, pulling her mother off the raised platform for cover, plasma bolts ripping past them as the arbiters began to regroup.

"Mother, are you alright? Can you hear me!?" Ajenke shouted over the thunder and rain. She pulled off the mask, suddenly afraid it had all been a trick. Her mother stared back at her, pale-faced and frightened, a trembling hand reaching out to touch her face. Ajenke grabbed her hand with hers and called Neyenthul. "Neyenthul, I have her!"

"We're coming back around now! Don't move!"

"Hurry!" She said, noticing her mother was not behaving like herself. Something was wrong. It was as if she didn't know what was going on. She was staring at her as if… _As if I'm supposed to be dead._

Suddenly her mother embraced her, her arms squeezing her shoulders and leaving Ajenke in shock. When her mother let go all the fear had left her eyes, replaced with a cold determination that she'd always feared. This was not her mother. This was the Mistress. "Mother...?"

Without warning she shoved her back and jumped onto the platform, running straight for the arbitrators. Ajenke scrambled to her feet, calling after her. Plasma bolts streaking into the air above as they searched for the stormbirds and their riders. "What the sjauk'rin is she doing?!" Neyenthul shouted.

"Ajenke get out of there!" called E'kru.

"Yan!"

"What?!" they shouted in unison.

Ajenke growled and unsheathed her sword. She hadn't come this far and sacrificed the lives of her warriors to just to give up. "Ak'nandei Neyenthul, for getting me this far. Get my warriors out of here."

Protests filled the comm, but she ignored them, charging into the Star Tower after her mother. Plasma shots and shuriken bolts shattered the execution platform as the Sky Runners made their final run, forcing the arbiters to duck for cover and give her a chance to make it through. Ajenke sprinted across the great hall, the furious bellows of the chief arbiter calling after her as he ordered his men to give chase.

A thunderous boom shook the tower and she stumbled slightly, the tremors quickly abating. She pushed on, assuming Neyenthul had detonated some powerful explosives as a backup measure in case there was trouble. _Bastard could've mentioned that beforehand_. Suddenly, several more thunderous shockwaves rocked the tower, bringing her and everyone else to their knees, the dark sky instantly becoming unnaturally bright as fireballs bloomed across the city. _What in the Goddess name is going on?!_

* * *

**\'- |/. -;' ,'- \|/**

* * *

The entire craft had gone dark, the engines listless and silent as it drifted amongst the sea of rocks and ice slowly spinning around the emerald gas giant. The warriors inside it waited with baited breath as the shadows of massive war ships passed over them, their fanged prows piercing the darkness with ease while bristling weapon ports hungrily searched for enemies. Whether through divine intervention or simple disinterest, the black Hish armada silently glided past, the dead shell of an abandoned N'varak'ii space craft unworthy of their attention.

Hetarrak watched the ships fly by, studying their numbers and speed. He knew exactly where they were going. The war band's trajectory put it on course directly for Ashann. All systems except emergency life support were off, so he couldn't calculate exactly when and where they'd arrive. The armada, however impressive, was too small to take on the wrath of an entire planet. Auran stood beside him, watching the fleet as it quickly disappeared into the void. "How long until it's safe to send a message?"

"We need to be out of missile range before we do that," clicked Hetarrak. "By the time we power up and send it, the armada will be closing in on Ashann. They kicked on their sub-warp as soon as they passed the planet to take advantage of the gravity well."

"We're not going to sit here and do nothing. Send a message as soon as possible to the Shan," Auran ordered before he left the bridge. He headed back into the med bay where I'aquin had remained for the last three days. He was stable but it would take time for him to recover and even then he would probably never have the full range of motion in his left shoulder again. Hetarrak and Auran had had some fun with him when he'd been high on painkillers. The Hidden Dagger never smoked ganja and refused to get drunk, preferring to keep his senses sharp, as he would say. The image of a slurring I'aquin declaring himself Shan of the med bay brought a smile to his face, but the memory of the Hish war band loomed in the back of his mind, darkening his thoughts. If they'd had sensors available, he could've calculated their strength exactly… as well as seen the bodies they liked to string up on the hulls of their ship. As much as he disdained the N'varak'ii, he hated the Hish even more. A Hish warrior had no honor and followed no God or gods. At least the N'varak'ii retained a code of honor and the humility to acknowledge beings higher than themselves. The Hish however, considered themselves the most superior beings in the galaxy, constantly refining their bloodlines and genetics to a degree that even the Ashann'ii would find obsessive.

Long ago, when the first of their kind has risen to power, entire worlds had burned, dozens of races destroyed through wanton slaughter. The N'varak'ii eventually overthrew the oppressive empire, the Hish fleeing to the edges of the galaxy and dark corners of the void, still hunting all manner of prey in their pursuit of physical perfection.

Until they'd picked up the thras'ka, Hetarrak had always assumed the stories of marauding yautja were the stuff of legends to warn against the evils of extremism. But then they'd picked up a Hish ship and bolted from the huunans' world before it had the chance to engage them. It was then he understood why the huunans were so desperate for protection.

"Hetarrak!"

The pilot snapped from his reverie and looked up to see an irritated Auran glaring down at him. "Are you going to daydream or send the warning?"

Hetarrak growled. "They're still too close. They could block it and track it back to us. Then our entire mission will have been for nothing."

Auran growled, but relaxed his stance, Hetarrak inwardly shocked that he hadn't punched him in the face for disobeying an order. "You're right about the possibility of their sensors picking us up. But they aren't expecting a warning to be sent, especially not by a destroyed N'varak'ii ship."

Hetarrak growled again, this time out of frustration. "It just doesn't make sense! An armada that size couldn't go undetected within our system for long. Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"They jumped into warp drive and immediately back out," Hetarrak finished. It was insane. Something he might try if he were desperate enough. He initiated the A.I. and began restoring power to the entire ship.

"Hetarrak, what are you doing?"

"You were right Auran, we need to get to Ashann as quickly as possible, before— oh chjit." Auran looked where Hetarrak was staring, his fists clenching in anger. Through the bridge viewport, several dozen bright flashes winked in the distance, the white energy flashes signifying warp jumps.

They were too late.

"Hetarrak, get us moving! Maximum warp!"

"Fak'sha sjauk'rin kessarin na chjit!" Hetarrak cursed, his claws dancing over the controls while Auran raced back into the med bay.

I'aquin sat propped up on the padded surgical slab, alert for the first time in days. "Let me guess. From the sound of you two shouting, you're trying to be heroes again, right?"

"Not now, I'aquin. I'm strapping you in."

The Hidden Dagger growled. Auran ignored him and began locking the leather straps across his legs and chest into place. I'aquin quietly seethed, the acrid stench of his anger filling the air and agitating Auran even more. He staggered suddenly as the craft jolted, the ship groaning as the engines kicked in and propelled it forward. Violent trembles shook floor and walls, the hull cracking and popping the cold metal heated up. "That bastard's gonna get us killed!" I'aquin shouted over the roar of the engines. "What in the infinite hells is he doing!?"

"What I told him to do!" Auran shouted back, a smile spreading over his mandibles. I'aquin stared at him, pissed beyond words.

A concussive blast suddenly ripped through the ship and Auran was thrown back against the wall, gravity crushing him, his vision going dark as pressure squeezed his head and lungs until the pain was unbearable. A sharp jolt sent him flying forward and soon the stabilizers and shields kicked in. he rose to his knees, gasping for air. When he stood, I'aquin looked ready to tear off his restraints. "If you don't kill him I will," he hissed. "Did that bastard just warp jump?!"

Auran struggled to his feet and headed to the bridge. He entered just in time to hear Hetarrak shout 'Oh chjit!' and swerve out of the way of the shattered remains of a space cruiser, bodies pouring from a giant hole blown into its shattered midsection. He braced himself against the doorframe as Hetarrak weaved and dodged fiery debris and plasma missiles. Hish and Ashann'ii cruisers smashed into each other, smaller craft engaged in vicious dogfights, the razor-like Hish battle jets ravaging the larger and slower transport vessels. Some of the shattered vessels plunged to the earth below, bright comets of death hurtling through the black storm clouds swirling over the continent of Is'drasil. Hetarrak punched through the aerial battle, weaving and twisting, streaking towards the heart of the storm with the rest of the falling ships.

Dread filled Auran as they plummeted through the atmosphere. "Hetarrak…"

"Saa, we just escaped what was left of the Kuuroch'ii crusade ships."

Their ship plunged into the thunderstorm, fire and lightning exploding around them in a cacophony of death and pain.

* * *

**,\|/,**

* * *

The thunder of the dying ships resounded with Natharrak's soul and he breathed a sigh of relief, the plan proceeding perfectly. Harsan's betrayal had been a demoralizing blow for some of the sharin'atharr. As the oldest and most experienced of their clan, his loss was most profound, like a father abandoning his children when they needed him most. But with Jalan's assassination of General Sorruk and the Shan's armada fighting for their lives above, he was certain his warriors were encouraged and would carry on valiantly till the end.

The xora-riding warriors that had swept in to save the Mistress had actually done them a small favor. The tower guardians would've been completely distracted and less likely to notice the ambush barreling down upon the orbiting crusade ships. He'd been standing with the other clan representatives below the execution platform near the Thousand Blade leaders when the attack had begun. It had been an entertaining prelude and not an unwelcomed surprise. The Mistress had been a thorn in his side until he'd manage to manipulate the Thousand Blades into sacking her stronghold. Her purge of the xashi in the Tunnels of the western sector had nearly forced him to push back the plan. Whether she lived or died was of no concern to him now. What did please him was the elimination of some of the arbiters guarding the platform.

The shouts of anger and horror at the falling ships pulled him back to reality, panicked yautja, most of them female, shoving past him as they raced back to their sectors for either their weapons or families. Chaos reigned in the streets surrounding the Thousand Crystal Towers as the tens of thousands that had gathered to witness the arrival of the fleet tried to flee the burning metal comets. Cries filled the air as a mammoth craft broke through the swirling miasma of cloud and rain, streaking straight for heart of the city. Its fanged prow and razor-edged claws bristling from its underbelly blended with dark dawn, lightning coruscating over its smoking surface. It smashed into several towers, exploding on impact. The graceful white towers wobbled, collapsing one-by-one, plumes of dust and ash washing over the southern edge of the city.

Natharrak weaved his way towards the Star Tower, pleased the Hish were willing to go through with their side of the bargain. They'd agreed that any of their ships unable to engage in combat would be forced from orbit and used to bombard the city below. The Shadow Stalkers would then use the subsequent fear and panic to their advantage, their enemies distracted by the assault above while the true enemy lurked below.

Communications would be sporadic and therefore unreliable. All of his warriors had been given their orders ahead of time. The bombardment was the signal to begin Phase II. He fingered his wrist computer, tapping into Raienthril's mind. Phase III would be much more complicated. All of the pieces needed to be in place if his clan's revenge was to be complete.

He growled behind his mask, threitak warming his limbs as he prepared for the final battle. He'd read the prophecy. He controlled the star born. No one could stop him. Not Shaidra. Not the ka'ii. Not even the High Clan.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Poll is now closed. Thanks to those that voted. I enjoyed everyone's feedback, whether it was through voting, reviews or PM's. I know I said I'd have it posted up last night but my hubby wanted to spend time with me. Turned out for the best as work is pretty much dead today since Christmas is right around the corner. I hope ya'll enjoyed Chapter 33. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy New Year and all that jazz. I expect presents in the form of reviews ;)


	34. Revelations

**Author's Note:** Two years ago, I started this story. Can't believe it, really. I forced myself to finish this chapter tonight. It's a little rough and I wish I could make it better, but I promised to get it out this weekend. I hope you enjoy. Please review!

* * *

**Revelations**

* * *

Ahandra dug her claws into her scalp and screamed. "Ahhhhhh! Make it stop! Make it stop!"

Saira handed the wailing Seinu to her assistant and slowly approached Ahandra, her ancient eyes tight with worry. Ahandra huddled in the corner, shivering and drooling as she muttered streams of gibberish, her wide eyes little more than black discs surrounded by halos of orange. The elder flinched as she snapped her head back and began slamming her head against the wall, drawing her claws down the sides of her face. "Oh God, no! Oh God, please! Please God, make it stop!"

Saira grabbed her wrists as crimson streaks appeared over her flesh. "Ahandra!" She shook her. "Ahandra, stop it!"

She suddenly gasped, as if returning to the surface for a breath of air, her pupils returning to normal. The elder softly chattered to comfort her as she sucked in shuddering breaths, her eyes filled with a wild look as she glanced about the room. "…Saira?"

"Saa, child. It's me. It's me," she cooed, gently rubbing her hands.

Ahandra trembled, panic gripping her as she felt herself slipping from reality again. "Don't let it get me. Don't let it find me, please."

"What is trying to get you?"

Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "The monster."

Saira sighed and pulled her into her arms, running her fingers through her tendrils. "Do not worry, child. We are safe in the Star Tower." She prayed that was true as thunderous explosions from outside softly shook the room.

Ahandra did not hear her or the distant roar of explosions pounding the city outside, her eyes glazing over as another vision took hold. The half-yautja, half-demon leered over her with its eyeless grin, hungrily circling her trembling form. Suddenly it lunged, its jagged fangs biting her forearm, shredding flesh and cracking bone. She screamed as it slashed at her with its claws and then flung her across the room with its powerful jaws, screeching and hissing something unintelligible, spittle flying from its six outstretched mandibles. Ahandra writhed as its venom burned through her veins, howling as organs twisted and bones warped, her flesh ripping apart as several spikes blossomed from her spine. Seinu was suddenly there, wailing just a few feet beyond her reach. Her cries of horror were replaced with a rasping screech. _Please! Leave him alone! No! Seinu! Noooo! _The dark creature slithered from the shadows, its long tail sinuously positioning its razor-edged tip over the whimpering infant. Pain wracked her body and she could not move, every muscle stretching and connecting to the black armor growing over her exposed bones. The blade quickly punctured Seinu's chest and his cries fell silent, a puddle of blood forming beneath him. The sight of her limp child's body being gorged on by the dark creature was infinitely more terrible than the transformation tearing her apart and she tore herself from the vision. "Noooo!" she howled, shoving Saira away and scrambling to her feet, searching for Seinu. When she did not see him she cried out and dashed from the room, desperately searching for him.

Saira shuffled into the nearby room in time to see Ahandra rip her squalling infant from the assistant' hands and kick her in the stomach, the blow knocking her into the medicine cabinet before she crumpled to the floor, moaning in pain. The elder huffed in irritation. The visions were much more troublesome than she or Iseneth had estimated. Ahandra did not have the time or experience to know how to control or interpret the dreams and with each vision her sanity was slowly eroding. Saira worried she would soon no longer be able to recognize reality and lash out at those trying to help.

Ahandra had retreated to the corner again, tightly clutching the wailing baby against her. Her eyes were swollen black from lack of sleep, her ribs beginning to show through her sallow skin since the only thing she'd managed to swallow was a piece of fruit Saira had had to force down. Her attempt to bath her ended with her screaming that she was drowning and the ceiling was collapsing. Whether this was a vision or plain paranoia, she didn't know. Saira sighed as she sat down, weary to her bones. She was getting too old for politics and mysticism. When she looked up, Ahandra's eyes had rolled up into the back of her head, Seinu slowly slipping through her weakening grip. The healer groaned as she quickly stood and shuffled over to the pair, worried the infant was going to fall.

Ahandra's eyes snapped back and she stared at her with horror. "Saira…"

"What Ahandra? What did you see?"

"I saw… I saw your death," her voice hitched. "He's coming to kill you… and then take me."

"The monster?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Right now," growled a deep voice from behind them.

Saira turned in surprise, Captain Tcharr standing the doorway with a darkblade in hand. The elder's eyes narrowed when she saw the sword. "So, you are a sharin'atharr, Captain Tcharr, if that's even your true name."

"It matters not," he said, twirling his blade as he approached, ignoring the whimpering assistant on the floor. "You're going to pay for stealing N'tharral'ii secrets and creating that abomination," he rumbled, jabbing his sword at Ahandra. The young female bared her fangs and growled. Good. Saira needed her lucid in order to stall for time. She put herself between the two, subtly running a claw her bracelet. "I imagine you've been waiting for this moment for a long time. Are there anymore thras'kali running around that I should be aware of?"

He smirked darkly. "We've infiltrated every level of you sun dwellerss' hierarchy, patiently waiting in the shadows until it was time to unleash our wrath. And now your precious city burns, along with the Thousand Blades' corrupt legacy."

Fear clutched her hearts as he prepared to lunge forward, her time running out. _Where in the hells are you?_

Suddenly, Harsan burst through the door and barreled into Tcharr, knocking him to the floor and ripping his weapon from his hands, the blade skidding across the floor. The two males roared as they traded ferocious blows and Saira took advantage of the turmoil to grab Ahandra and flee. Realizing his prey was escaping, Tcharr focused his strength and tossed Harsan aside, scrambling to his feet. The remaining healer crawled into a corner, unable to escape as Harsan jumped to his feet and slammed into the warrior, glass shattering as the cabinet imploded. "You traitor!" Jalan snarled, fighting to free himself from Harsan's grip. "How could you help the very clan that obliterated everything we knew?!" He roared, shoving the older warrior off and swinging for his jaw. Harsan stepped back, expertly fending off each fierce punch. At the first opening his fist cracked across Jalan's cheek, a spinning kick sending him crashing back against the ruined cabinet.

"My loyalty belongs to Auran now. Through him, we had a chance to rebuild our lives, but Natharrak would not listen. Although it pains me to do so, I will kill each and every one of you if I must in order to preserve that dream."

Jalan sneered. "What good is your dream? The city burns and thousands are dead. And Natharrak will have already unleashed the final phase. You cannot stop us!"

Harsan's gaze hardened. "It is true I did not know of the attack from above, but it does not change my resolve to protect Auran and his family. Whether the city survives or not is not my concern."

"You old daka," he hissed. He flicked his wrists, a single blade sliding out from each of his gauntlets. He lunged, Harsan diving for the darkblade on the floor, bringing it up just in time to counter the swift strike. The elder warrior grunted as Jalan forced him to his knees, their blades locked. Jalan smiled darkly. "Unlike Auran, I had many years to train under you… master."

* * *

**,;' \-' /'-**

* * *

Ahandra cried out and stumbled to her knees, moaning and clutching her face with one hand. Saira stopped and shifted the now sleeping infant in her arms, puffing as she tried to catch her breath. Goddess, she was old! "Ahandra, what is it?"

She looked up, sorrow filing her features. "Harsan failed. Tcharr's still coming."

The healer helped up the young female, steadying her as she swayed. "Don't worry. We've got a head start. If we can make it to the elevators then everything will be fine."

Without warning, the power shut off, plunging the halls into darkness for a few moments, the emergency lights winking on one-by-one, bathing the floors in a blood-red glow. Saira cursed their ill luck and pulled Ahandra to her feet, shaking her arm when she was finally upright. "Now you listen to me! You can control your visions. You must or we'll never get away."

"H-how?"

"You must exercise threitak, your will. Use its fire to focus and choose when you slip into the dream state."

"But it feels so real—"

The healer's hand cracked across her face. "Stop it! I will hear no more excuses! This blithering and crying you keep doing has no place amongst yautja." She watched the heat flare across Ahandra's face and chest, pleased she hadn't melted into a helpless puddle. "I know you are the same stubborn, intelligent female I found sniffing around my kitchen a year ago. You fought like a demon after I took your son away and stood up to Jaiendra shan'ra. Iseneth could control these infernal visions and so can you."

The young female's breathing and hearts were now pumping hot blood through her veins, her wan skin slowly beginning to glow brighter. "I'll try."

"Yan! You will. Because you must." Saira handed her the whimpering Seinu. "_This_ is the only future you need to worry about." She glanced about the darkened halls, squinting down the crimson corridors. A hulking figure abruptly slid into view, sprinting down the hallway towards them. "Tcharr!" Ahandra gasped. Saira pushed her ahead. "Run child, run! Don't stop—"

Blood sprayed and Saira crumpled to the ground, a silver knife lodged into the back of her shoulder. "Saira!" Ahandra shouted, faltering a few steps ahead.

"R-run," Saira hissed through clenched fangs, pain shooting through her arm and back.

Ahandra didn't need to be told twice as Tcharr swiftly drew closer, his bloodied wrist blades glinting in the lowlight as he swung his powerful arms. She bolted down a side hallway, searching for the stairs. Saira watched her disappear, relieved the young female hadn't fought her order. She tensed as a rattling growl filled the empty hall, the jagged end of a blade tracing her jaw and cheek. "Because I am needed elsewhere, your death, unfortunately, will be quick."

Saira said nothing, closing her eyes as she waited for the inevitable. She gasped and then fell still as a serrated wrist blade punctured her spine, her life heat bleeding onto the floor. The blade ripped free with a wet slurp, fresh blood dripping along the ground as Jalan strode forward, not even bothering to clean his blade. There was no point in cleaning something he would never use again. Besides, it pleased him when he thought of how many layers of his enemies' blood already coated his blades. He sniffed the air, the thras'ka's putrid scent easily detectable. Jalan sprinted forward, bounding down the stairs after his prey. She would not get far.

* * *

**|'. \- ;'/**

* * *

Ahandra jogged as quickly as she could, her legs wobbling with exhaustion. After several floors she stopped, hunching over as her burning lungs sucked in ragged breaths. Running was pointless. The assassin could easily catch up with her. She needed to hide. Ahandra quickly surveyed her surroundings, noting every hall was designed in concentric circles, just like the Midnight Blossom, only much more elegant and spacious. She bolted for the nearest door, cursing when she found it locked. The next two were exactly the same. _Shit, she thought, gently patting Seinu's back he began to hiccup from crying so much, his soft head nestled on her shoulder. The next one had to work._

As she stepped forward, the world around her changed. A gaping hole replaced the white marble wall, the sparking wires and metal skeleton of the tower exposed to the smoke-choked air. Lightning arced across the sky, illuminating the barren landscape covered in fire and rubble. Something was wrong with the ground. It swelled and writhed, like a dark, glistening sea, the air filled with high-pitched keens and squeals. Black serpents slithered down the walls and through the hole, circling around her, grinning and hissing. She growled at them and they shrunk back, wrapping their long, bony tails around their legs. It was then Ahandra noticed her hands – there were four of them, all covered in same, twisted obsidian shell as the demons watching her. Seinu stirred in arms and she held him out before her, horrified at his emaciated frame and eyeless face staring back at her.

Hungry.

She sensed his hunger, his mandibles reaching out in supplication.

Hungry.

No, it wasn't just him. They were all hungry. There was nothing left in the city to eat. Everything was either bone or ash.

Hungry.

Yes, she was hungry as well. Starving— no! _Ravenous._ She looked out at the darkness, sensing the many life forms beyond the mountains and forests.

HUNGRY.

The need pounded in her veins, the thousand, thousand voices of her children crying out to her.

Suddenly, one of her children stepped forward. She hissed but still he dared approach. _Stop! _He grabbed her throat and shoved her against the wall, his six mandibles pulling back into a dark smile. "An interesting vision," he drooled, tightening his grip. "But it's time to wake up."

The dream abruptly vanished as his hand squeezed her throat. Ahandra shuddered as the warmth of her real body returned, but the hunger lingered, painfully pinching her empty stomach until she felt nauseous. Jalan stared down at her, his eyes burning red against his dark face. "You should feel honored that you will live long enough to see the end." His hand slid around to the back of her neck and he pulled her next to him, dragging her forward. Ahandra didn't fight, barely able to hold onto Seinu. There was no point in reasoning with the assassin. She'd seen inside his mind once. He looked forward to oblivion.

She quickly shuffled forward, hating herself. The Shadow Stalkers now had an ace up their sleeve. With her and Seinu as hostages, Auran wouldn't dare fight Natharrak. He would be killed, along with everyone else. But what about the prophecy? Auran was supposed to die, but how could him dying fix everything? And then there were the xashi. Harsan had revealed his clan's ultimate weapon when they'd met with the ka'ii. The formula would have been distributed by now. It was only a matter of time until the city was consumed by the slavering horde lurking beneath the surface.

Her hearts ached, but she focused on Saira's last words. She must not give into despair. She'd come too far, suffered too much to lose her new family and jeopardize the one she'd left behind on Earth. Threitak warmed Ahandra's body, helping her focus. She would figure out the riddle of her nightmares and find a way to get free of her captor. If her visions wouldn't change on their own, then she would figure out a way to make them.

* * *

**\'- \; -';**

* * *

"…ourk... Rrourk!... RROURK!"

His head throbbed as he groggily awoke and he slowly sat up. He growled for the hysterical female to shut up and grabbed Rrek'ne by the front of her robes for balance as he wobbled to his feet, her incessant yelling hurting his head. The matron clawed at his hands, cursing him. "Rrourk! We do not have time for this! We're under attack!"

A wave of dizziness and nausea overcame him and he sat back down, the healer ripping free of his weakened grasp. He looked down at the bandages covering the cuts and bruises he'd sustained during his battle against the Bloodclaws, blood slowly seeping into the large wrap that sealed the deep gash over his ribs. His flesh had barely begun to knit together but he didn't feel pain. Instead he felt a strange sense of apathy, the room stretching and bending away from him, Rrek'ne's shouts a faint buzzing noise. He hazily recalled the needle Rrek'ne had slid into his arm before everything had gone dark. Rrourk growled, trying to muster up some amount of indignation at what he was sure had been Ajenke's idea to keep him from following her. He promised himself, after the drugs had worn off of course, that he would be properly pissed off when he finally found his mate. Rrourk realized the matron was still talking and watched her, mildly irritated when she cursed and tried to drag him off the metal slab. He perked up at the mention of xashi, his bionic eye flaring to life and whirring as he tried to focus on the healer. "Whadja say?" he slurred.

"Augh! Were you even listening?! Xashi are attacking the Midnight Blossom and we need to evacuate!"

That got his attention and he stood up, his natural eye rapidly blinking as the room spun. "The hells ja give me?"

"Chjit," she hissed in exasperation, dragging him through the med bay. "I upped the dosage to make sure you were sedated the entire night. I had to give you a stimulant to wake you up. You may feel disoriented and nauseous—"

Rrourk threw up.

"—but those symptoms should wear off soon," she huffed as she pulled him into the main entryway. Rrourk stood in the doorway, stunned by the panicked cacophony as acolytes ran back and forth between howling patients. Blood spatters covered the floor, the copper scent making his queasy insides twist. He spotted one of his seconds lying in a corner and limped over, crouching over the male's slouched form. Rrourk steeled his expression as his comrade turned to look at him, the left side of his torso and face practically ripped off. He had a wild look in his remaining yellow eye, not even acknowledging his captain when Rrourk placed a hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. "Orthrik? Orthrik what happened?"

Rrourk flinched, his second's black, gnarled hand suddenly grabbing his arm. His growl however, became stuck in his throat the moment he saw the limb. Its life heat was gone, but it gripped him as if blood still flowed through it. Orthrik's body temperature was rapidly falling, his labored gasps turning into sibilant hisses. Rrourk flung his hand away and jumped back as Orthrik began to writhe and scream. His eye puckered and bulged from its socket, popping free and bouncing across the floor. Flesh ripped and twisted as bones reformed, spikes sprouting from his remaining arm. With a sickening crack, his knees snapped backwards, his toes and legs quickly lengthening, a dark shell growing over his cold skin.

Rrek'ne shoved past Rrourk, pumping the thing that was once Orthrik with several rounds of superheated plasma. Gaping holes tore through flesh, metal and rock, the thing's steaming, mutated body slumping silently to the ground. She turned to her acolytes, shouting over the screams of panicked flowers. "Patch them up and move them out now!"

Rrourk grabbed her arm as she walked passed. "What in the hells was that!?"

She pulled her arm away. "Xashi! And the damned things are everywhere."

"That's not a xashi, that's a demon! Why was Orthrik turnin' into one?!"

"He was bitten. If I'd have known that I would've killed him sooner."

"What? Bitten?"

Rrek'ne sighed, exhaustion lining her high cheeks. "It all happened so fast… There were rumors. People going missing, rats fleeing their nests for the surface and the sub-system shutting down. We upped our security even though hardly anyone was in the Midnight Blossom because of the ceremony. A guard on surveillance duty was scanning the sensors as some were customers leaving and watched them get ambushed outside the main gate. Two were killed. One made it back inside with just a bite mark on his arm before the doors sealed. Not long after he began to change, just like Orthrik."

"But why are we evacuatin'? The main gates can withstand several heavy plasma cannons. We're safer inside."

"Saa, they can't breach the main doors. But they've somehow figured out how to get into the air ducts. We've pulled everyone from the Golden Hall and Black Room to the Red Room. Everyone originally in the Red Room has already been evacuated."

"What about the living quarters, down here?"

"We're moving the stragglers up now."

"Then I'll leave the females to you and the matrons," he said, leaving her find his weapons.

Rrourk quickly slipped on his armor, the segmented plates hissing as they pressurized and latched onto his skin. He hefted his axe over his shoulder and tapped into the comm network, static and garbled chatter filling his mask. "This is Rrourk!" he growled. The panicked shouts and roars on the other end died down for a few moments, each of the remaining seconds reporting their battle situation and number of warriors remaining. Rrourk began barking out orders, heading to the main gate to support what few shield guards remained.

The halls were rank with the stench of fear as females, a few with children, were herded by matrons to the passageways beneath the Red Room. The escape tunnel used when the Thousand Blades had attacked had been expanded and the destroyed service elevator reconstructed. Although everyone could quickly escape the underground fortress, it would take time to get everyone safely into the jungle above. But how safe was it really, he wondered as he approached a group of shield guardians sweeping the main entry ways and side halls. They all shouted out at once.

"It's the captain!"

"What's goin' on?"

"Did you see Orthrik?"

Rrourk gave a quick bark to silence them. They were new recruits. Orthrik had always been in charge of them, ridding them of the cutthroat and crude habits they'd picked up in the Tunnels. He'd even overseen Rrourk at one point. "Orthrik is dead. Yer with me now." The warriors shoulders slumped slightly. The second captain had likely been the only father-figure they'd ever known. "Mourn the fallen later," he growled. "We're moving to the Red Room."

The shield guardian in the back of the group suddenly cried out, his feet jerking out from beneath him. He clawed at the ground, screaming for help as a dark shadow drug him around the corner. Rrourk whirled, his great axe slicing through the mutant yautja attacking from behind. Several more slunk in the background, hissing and drooling, no two alike. He unholstered his plasma gun and primed it, firing several shots down the hall. One creature's arm blew off and screeched as it fell to the floor, Rrourk blasting it as it tried to crawl away. The rest scattered, preferring easier meals.

He ran after the warriors that had gone to save their friend, following the sounds of battle. He found them encircled around a shredded corpse; the floor bubbling as its blood slowly melted through. They were scratched and bloodied but still standing. "Did it bite any of you?" he growled, watching their expressions in case they lied.

"Just a scratch," said a warrior clutching his bleeding forearm.

Rrourk grunted. "Let's move then."

Once they met up with several other second captains, Rrourk divided up Orthrik's group. The strongest warriors he sent to defend the rear, the rest to defend the servant passages surrounding the escape route below. Rrourk coordinated his second captains, maintaining constant communication while overseeing the matrons as they quickly moved females. He was going over the surface plans with Naka when shouts filled his mask.

"Captain! We found a whole nest of them! They're everywhere! We're pulling b—Aaah!"

The seconds' sigil went dark. Plasma blasts and screeches sounded from the other warriors' comms. Screaming flowers poured in from below, shoving those in front of them. The djaidesh'erin shouted for order, but it was too late. The crowd surged forward, trampling any who fell. Mothers and children were separated and it was all Rrourk could do to keep from being swept away. He searched for Rrek'ne, praying she was alright. The last thing they needed was to lose another Matron of Healing. She and her acolytes finally appeared, encouraging the worst of the wounded to keep going. Plasma blasts lit up the halls, roars and screeches filling the cavern as the xashi pushed the shield guardians back. When the healers had limped into the escape tunnel, Rrourk ordered everyone to fall back.

A grizzled veteran who'd lost the right-half of his mandibles walked up to him. "Cap'n, we still 'ave some warriors and possibly a few females unaccounted fer."

"Leave 'em," he rumbled. The elder warrior nodded and led his shield guardians away. Rrourk moved just inside the escape tunnel, his hand on the shut-off handle. As soon as his warriors began to flee for the door, the xashi poured into the hall, a hideous amalgam of demon and yautja. A male screamed as several dragged him to the ground. The rest made through, Rrourk shutting the door just before the howling wave reached them, the massive door crushing limbs and skulls as it slammed shut with a booming thud.

* * *

**;\ |-' \|;**

* * *

She ignored the explosions and strange looks people gave her as they fled to the lower levels. The guards were gone, that was all she cared about. Only they would have the sense to recognize her naked and bruised body as signs of who she really was. Nyrendi froze as the power suddenly cut off, waiting until the crimson emergency lights flickered on to continue her journey upward. Nothing was going to stop her this time. The shan'ra would pay for trying to kill her, for making it look like Shaidra had sent the assassins, for enjoying her place at his side, a place that should've been hers. She was supposed to have borne his children and rule Kuuroch in his absence. Ajenke had deserved to be more than a dancer and a whore mistress.

Her eyes and forehead ached at the thought of her daughter, her brave, beautiful daughter, risking everything to come and save her from an execution she probably deserved. No, she did deserve it. She deserved to die. She had no right to be a part of her daughter's life. So she'd taken a final look at her and then left, knowing she'd never understand why. Why she had to do what was needed to make sure she would be safe. She would find Jaiendra and kill her. The kalai had taken everything. Her future, her clan, her lover. But she would not take her daughter. Nyrendi had lived with that terrible lie for an entire cycle. She could not bear it if Jaiendra's falsehood ever came true. So the shan'ra had to die. Then and only then would Ajenke be safe.

She raced up the steps, ignoring her burning lungs and limbs. Her body ached from the countless bruises and lashings, her once beautiful skin cracked and twisted, her dry tendrils beginning to curl and twist. But it didn't matter. Soon, the shan'ra would be dead.

Nyrendi slipped inside a slave passage that led to the Star Court. Shaidra had shown her the tunnels when they'd been secret lovers and they'd used them many times to meet each other. They didn't worry if an aseinan saw them. They had no eyes or voices and so could never reveal their secret even if they'd wanted to. Her hearts thrummed inside her chest as she felt her way through the pitch black passage, the tantalizing image of Jaiendra's life heat fading as she choked on her own blood so close to coming true. She found the movable panel and quietly slid it open and slipped inside, darting behind one of the massive pillars lining the great hall. She carefully peaked around, her face twisting into a snarl as soon as she saw the shan'ra.

The kalai was exactly where Nyrendi'd expected her to be, sitting on her throne and shouting panicked orders to anybody would listen. The entire city was laid out before her, the hologram filling the entire floor of the Star Court. Fires burned across the city as ships fell from the sky and several of the Thousand Towers slowly tumbled to the earth, their shattered bodies sending up giant plumes of dust and debris. She still clung to that ignorant tradition of keeping her male bodyguards outside the Star Court, leaving her completely vulnerable.

"Where is the Shan?" Jaiendra demanded, slamming her fist into her gleaming chair. "What happened to his ship?! I want answers now!" She felt sick. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't possible. All her careful planning and manipulations were being undone by this attack, she thought as she buried her face into her hands. Their enemies would pounce on them as soon as the smoke cleared. She needed the Shan. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do.

A low hiss made Jaiendra's head snap up. She watched with horror as Nyrendi waded through the holographic city, a dark smile plastered on her face that filled the shan'ra with dread. Jaiendra dug her claws into her chair and snarled. "_Nyrendi._ You should've escaped when you had the chance." The female stood there, the scent of her bloodlust making Jaiendra's hackles rise. "You think killing me will save you!? Once Shaidra saves Kuuroch he'll destroy your precious Midnight Blossom! And I'll make sure this time your little whore daughter dies as well!"

Nyrendi let loose a raspy howl and lunged for the shan'ra, clawing at her and dragging her off her throne. Jaiendra cried out, cowering and covering her head as the crazed female tore her robes and lashed her arms till blood flowed. "Help! Guards! Help me!"

Nyrendi grabbed her throat, cutting off her screams. She squeezed, enjoying Jaiendra's desperate struggles, her eyes bulging and mandibles scrabbling at the air. The Star Court's doors hissed open and red-caped guardians stormed in, but she held on. _Just a few more seconds!_ Jaiendra's face was slowly turning purple, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, her hands weakly grasping Nyrendi's wrists. _I will kill you! You will die, you kalai! _Large hands grabbed her and tried to pull her off of the dying female. _Yan! Yan, get away! I need to kill her! _She screamed in outrage as she was ripped from her prey, her claws leaving bright, bloody trails across the shan'ra's neck. _Yaaan! You sekfet bastards! Get off of me! Get off—_

Nyrendi choked, paralyzed by pain. Time froze as she stared into the large black eyes of a guardian's golden mask and for a brief moment she thought she saw a tall, dark figure dressed in black armor staring back at her, a bloody knife in his hand. She shuddered as the body guard pulled his knife from her stomach, the ones holding her arms dropping her to the floor. Nyrendi lay there stunned and dismayed, feeling her hot blood slip through her hands as she clutched at her wound. It wasn't supposed to be this way, she thought, numbly watching Jaiendra roll onto her side, coughing and gasping for air, her color slowly returning. The shan'ra eventually staggered to her feet, enraged, cursing her warriors and demanding a gun. One handed her a pistol and she snatched it from him, angrily priming it. She spun, her beautiful face twisted into vengeful snarl. "_How dare you tough me you filth!_" She strode over and thrust the weapon down at Nyrendi, her finger on the trigger. "I should've killed you the day I realized who you were!" She seethed, her skin glowing hot with rage. "Because you tried to kill me and because your stupid daughter freed you, know that I will make her suffer. The months you spent in that cell will seem like paradise compared to what awaits your spawn when I get my claws on her! Now die—"

"Jaiendra!" The Shan's roar shattered the air and the shan'ra's color drained from her face. The city of Kuuroch dissipated and morphed into the glowing figure of the Shan, his figure tall and proud. The shield guardians knelt on one knee and bowed their heads, awaiting their orders. Jaiendra did not look up. Instead she stared at the gun in hands, wanting to use it but too afraid. She shrunk a little more when he growled her name. "Saa?"

"What are you doing?"

"I, uh… I was about to kill the Mistress, one of your most hated enemies." She stood up a little straighter, turning her gaze slightly towards her mate. "She tried to kill me and for that I have the right to kill her."

The Shan's expression grew hard and he turned his gaze to Nyrendi. She met his eyes, unafraid. She would at least try to be brave before she met her end. As he studied her, feelings she'd long thought gone rose to the surface and she embraced them, recalling the brief passion they'd shared so long ago. It felt like another lifetime. His next words cut deeper than the knife that had pierced her body.

"Nyrendi… why?"

She closed her eyes and looked away, regret and shame filling her.

Shouts of pain and surprise startled her and she watched as invisible blurs cut down the unsuspecting body guards, blood and fluid spraying the ground. It was over as quickly as it had begun and she looked over to see a terrified Jaiendra huddled against the dais stairs, the gun tumbling down the stairs nearby.

"What treachery is this?!" the Shan shouted.

One-by-one, the dark warriors appeared, white electricity crackling over their obsidian armor and pale almond skin, their dark blades dripping with blood. "Sorry to interrupt," rumbled one of the warriors, slipping off his mask and tossing it aside. He sauntered towards the Shan, resting his blade on his shoulder. "But you have more important things to worry about than squabbling females."

"Taqar," the Shan growled darkly. "What are you doing?"

"It's Natharrak, actually. The one known as Taqar has been dead for some time."

Shaidra's gaze never wavered. "You're all sharin'atharr."

He bowed his head, a small smile pricking his mandibles.

"How many of you survived my father's purge?"

"Enough," Natharrak clicked, growling.

"What do you want?"

'What do I want?' he smiled. "Yan, it's what we want. We want vengeance. Your clan wiped us out, extending a hand of peace while you held a knife behind your back. You waited until we were vulnerable and then destroyed everything!" He roared, thrusting his sword at the Shan. "What do we want?! We want our fathers. We want our mothers! We want our brothers and sisters! We want N'tharralis restored to its former glory! Give us these things and we'll call off the Hish and destroy the demons tearing through the underbelly of this city at this very moment."

"What demons?" Shaidra growled. "What have you done!?"

"I have done what is necessary! We will destroy you just as you destroyed us!"

"I was willing to re-establish the treaty! Once—"

"Once Auran returns with the sword of Ashann all is forgotten? Oh, don't look so surprised. We know everything, thanks to Raienthril. He was more than willing to take revenge on you after the humiliation he suffered when you cast him out," Natharrak hissed.

"That bastard…"

At a sound from behind, Nyrendi tore her eyes away from the scene, her eyes widening as a Thousand Blade captain dragged Ahandra through the open door, a child clutched in her arms. She staggered, the male gruffly ordering her to keep moving. The two females eyes locked for a moment, Ahandra's brow furrowing in confusion. "Mistress?" She was roughly pulled away, the captain throwing her at the feet of the one called Natharrak.

"Tcharr? What are you doing?" Shaidra snarled at the captain.

"This is Jalan," explained Natharrak. "He replaced the young warrior the day Auran and Ahandra were bonded. He was supposed to keep an eye on the pair, but… well we all know what happened after that. Speaking of which, Auran will be returning shortly. We told him everything when he willingly sought us out. He proved his loyalty by killing Iyeiden Sjaienthess…"

For once, the Shan had nothing to say or shout, his features a frozen mask of resolve as Natharrak continued his bitter tirade. Nyrendi's hearts ached as she watched him steel himself against the barrage of taunting revelations. The one he'd loved and thought dead had actually been alive all this time, revealed to be the cunning and violent Mistress. Worse, his first mate had known this and had tried to kill her multiple times. And now he was paying the price for his father's crimes.

She watched as Ahandra slowly pushed her infant off to the side. Suddenly, she pounced, cutting off Natharrak's monologue and slamming him to the floor. They both cried out as her claws dug into his face and Nyrendi half-believed she saw a flash of light pass from the male through Ahandra's arms. Jalan ripped her off of him, pulling her by her dreadlocks and shoving a pistol into the top of her skull, daring her to move.

Natharrak slowly stood, his eyes bright with anger. "I'll make sure Auran watches you die, huunan. The Thousand Blades had no right to give sharin'atharr technology to a lesser race." He turned to the Shadow Stalkers near Jaiendra. "Kill the Thousand Blade whore!"

The Shaidra roared as the shan'ra's screams filled the air for a brief moment. Nyrendi felt an empty relief. Jaiendra was dead. But if what the Shadow Stalker said was true, her daughter was still in danger.

"Come and face me Shan! Die with honor or burn with your city! It's your choice," Natharrak bellowed.

Shaidra punched the holo-control screen, the glass shattering and the image of the Star Court fizzling away. The command center continued to work at a frantic pace. The Hish were retreating, but the damage had been done. The city was smothered by fires, smoke and torrential rains. And now there was a threat from below. He straightened, trying to regain his composure and looked over at Thet. She was dressed in red robes and had painted her face with the white markings of her clan. "Did you know? About Nyrendi?"

"I found the timing of the Mistress' execution suspicious, but I never considered she was a past lover. Jaiendra somehow knew this."

Shaidra let Thet think. Her intelligence was the reason he'd chosen her as a third mate. She'd been instrumental in planning their challenge of the High Clan's authority. All for nothing, of course.

"Let's go through what we know. Nyrendi is the Mistress. Nyrendi was your lover but the Mistress is your enemy. Why the sudden change? You are surprised because you thought her dead or missing. Something had to have happened after she went missing during the Clan Wars. Then we have Jaiendra. Why go to such great lengths to kill Nyrendi just before you arrive rather than sooner or let you do it yourself? The answer: if you saw her, you might spare her, but if Jaiendra killed her sooner she would not have the satisfaction of watching Nyrendi die publicly humiliated. Further, she would see her as a rival and would enjoy Nyrendi's despair, knowing that you would never know the truth of who the Mistress really was."

Shaidra growled. Was Jaiendra really that cruel? Come to think of it, she'd quickly lost the alluring vulnerability she'd displayed during their courtship. "That still doesn't explain Nyrendi becoming the Mistress."

Thet sighed. "Only Jaiendra could answer that. Whatever happened, it traumatized Nyrendi enough that she blamed you for ending up in the Tunnels. Although the way she looks at you doesn't suggest she hates you." She shrugged. "Even I am perplexed." She cocked her head then, examining him. "What will you do now?"

He rumbled and straightened to his full height. "I will leave the city in your command. I am going to the Star Court."

"To confront Natharrak?"

"Iyan. I'm going to kill him. And then save Nyrendi and get answers. Get me power to the central lift. I want to get there as soon as possible."

Thet watched the Shan's elite guardians and close kin file after him, then sat down in the command chair at the head of the room, chirping orders and examining troop movements, amused by the confused looks directed at her by some of the males. They weren't used to females being in charge. "Direct emergency power to the central lift," she clicked, sending a silent prayer with the Shan.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter will feature Auran :)

(Also, if you can think of a better chapter name, let me know. My mind drew a blank on this one. I thought of calling it "Demons", "Secrets", etc... Still iffy with "Revelations.")


	35. Horde

**Author's Note: **Happy Friday! Now, I know this chapter is shorter the last several (sorry Luv4Uncas). MS word rounded it out to a little over 2900 words. The reason? I consider this a transition or build-up chapter. Why? Because the next chapter… chjit gets real. I know I said that a loooong time ago, but when I said that, Chapter 36 was _the_ chapter I was referring to. *so excited* That being said, don't expect it to come out soon. The last week of January will be uber busy for me and I want to get the chapter perfect so you'll probably see something in early February.

* * *

**Horde**

* * *

"Chjit! Don't fire! Don't fire you morons! I sent you the landing and mission codes!" Hetarrak shouted at the yautja glaring back him on the holo-screen. The command center was pissed that a N'varak'ii ship had landed inside the Star Tower and the sensors screamed as several giant plasma cannons locked onto their ship inside the docking bay. The dock manager relented, but made them wait for confirmation from the higher ups. Auran was losing patience and his agitation was riling up Hetarrak. After several tense minutes, another male suddenly appeared and whispered in the dock controller's ear, his brow slowly furrowing in confusion with each passing second. Once the messenger left, the plasma cannons disengaged. "You've been given full clearance. Proceed."

"Finally," Hetarrak growled, easily maneuvering the craft into one of the holding cells lining the walls, clamps locking the ship in place. "Can you believe that guy, Auran? After everything that happened we almost got blasted by our own people!"

"Hetarrak."

The young Thunderfist turned to see Auran fully armored.

"I need you to stay with I'aquin until he gets to a healer. And don't let him persuade you otherwise, are we clear?"

"He's going to be pissed," Hetarrak muttered as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"If you have something say, say it now," Auran rumbled.

"Are you sure you don't need me to go with you? I'aquin can wait here. He's stable enough."

"Yan. No offense, but you fight better in the air than on the ground. Besides, we may need an easy exit in case things go wrong."

"More wrong than right now?"

"Probably. I have a feeling that something bigger is going on that we don't know about."

"What are you going to do?"

"Find Ahandra, give the Shan the sword and get out of here."

"I'll keep the ship warm then."

Auran strode out the back of the ship without another word. The lower halls were filled with scurrying messenger slaves and drones. Thousand Blades and other pure blood clans were descending from their homes in the high towers to the ground, the acrid scents of fear and anxiety making him walk faster. Ahandra could've been moved by now. If that were the case, it was unlikely he'd be able to find her in all this chaos. He avoided the main lifts, certain they were overcrowded. He found a slave lift, shoving a waiting slave out of the way and jumping inside.

Luck must have been with him, because as soon as he stepped out of the cramped box the power shut off. Auran paused as tremors shook the massive tower, the powerful explosion not far off. The emergency lights slowly flickered on, bathing the walls and floors in a hellish red. He ran through the empty halls, his hearts pounding in his chest.

Auran scented the air as he rounded a corner, sliding to a stop and gripping the hilt of his darkblade, his hackles rising as the copper tang of blood filled his mouth. Silently, he crept forward, threitak burning his limbs, his body coiled tight like a spring. Fear gripped his hearts as he tracked the trail of blood back to the door of Saira's clinic. Auran unsheathed his sword and stepped through the doorway as it hissed open, the stench of blood overwhelming. Blood smears spattered the floor and walls, shattered glass crunching beneath his booths as he surveyed the carnage. Cabinets, shelves and equipment had been crushed during what appeared to have been a brutal fight. His hearts leapt in his throat for a moment when he spotted the female curled up in the corner, her cold body sitting in a large pool of blood. He took a closer look at her, relief flooding him when he saw it wasn't his mate. The emotion was short lived. Fear gripped him anew as he dashed towards the small room in the back.

It was empty. Auran sniffed the air, the scents of Ahandra and Seinu smothered by a cloud of fear that permeated the air. His anger grew with each breath and he slipped on his mask to help filter the scents and allow him to focus. If he was going to find his family he'd needed to stay as calm as possible. He glanced around, noticing his cloak that he'd left with Ahandra before his mission bunched up on the pallet in the corner. She wouldn't have left that. Which meant she'd either fled or been taken. He turned and ran back into the hall, following the trail of blood leading away from the room, hoping he wasn't too late.

The trail led him to a body, a knife sticking out from the female's right shoulder blade. Auran gently traced a second stab wound that had punctured her spine, the bones and nerves expertly severed. It was a quick kill. He rolled the body over on its side, anger filling him as he realized it was the elder Saira. Ahandra would have been with her, he was certain of it. He carefully laid her back face down, asking for forgiveness before pulling the knife free from her shoulder. He examined the blade, anger blazing through him when he noticed the Shadow Stalkers clan symbol etched into the handle. What was a sharin'atharr doing in the heart of the Thousand Blades' territory? He squeezed the dagger, his knuckles turning white as he scanned for more blood, the small spatters glowing orange against the cool floor. He tossed the dagger aside and continued to follow the bloody trail higher and higher. Whoever had left it had been seriously wounded, but had kept pushing themselves despite their injury. Auran feared if he didn't find the warrior before he died, then he'd never find his family.

* * *

**| \|/ |'; -'- -|**

* * *

Rrourk had hacked the xashi in half, but still the squealing abomination refused to die, using its long, serrated claws to drag itself forward after him. It hissed, slowly peeling open its vertical mouth slit, three rows of mandibles blossoming on either side like a nightmarish flower. A web of acidic saliva dripped from its poisonous fangs, the ground beneath it hissing as strings of drool burned through plants and roots. In place of a tongue, a second fanged mouth gaped from within its hideous maw. "The God damn ya!" Rrourk roared, pulling out his plasma pistol and firing at the creature. The superheated liquid punched through its armored shell, ripping apart its arm and jaws before finally piercing its skull. Rrourk shot another bolt through its head before moving on, following the roars of shield guardians being attacked in the densely packed jungle.

It had all happened so fast. They'd managed to reach the surface and Rrourk had ordered two teams to scout ahead to look for shelter from the torrential rains. When one of the scout teams had gone missing, Rrourk sent two Midnight Swords to look for them. When they didn't report in, he knew that something was wrong and had pushed everyone as fast as he could without inducing a panic. The second scout team accidentally stumbled across their twisted comrades on their way back to the group and all hell had broken loose. He'd ordered everyone to run, Naka taking the lead. The wounded had been left behind, Rrourk dragging Rrek'ne away before she was eaten, or worse, bitten.

Sated on the weak that had fallen behind or gotten lost, the xashi followed the fleeing group, picking off stragglers and pouncing on warriors who strayed too far from their comrades. These unlucky souls were tortured until they were either dead or converted, Rrourk sometimes recognize the slavering monsters by the ragged armor or weapons that clung to their emaciated frames. Their mad shrieks and roars filled the air as they ghosted across the treetops and slithered through the thick undergrowth.

Rrourk roared and threw his great axe, the huge blade burying itself a xashi's chest mid-leap. It collapsed to the ground, blood spraying the air. He slammed his foot into the creature's stomach, wrenching his weapon from its chest and skull. "Naka, do ya see it yet?" he shouted as he scanned the tree limbs above.

"I can't see chijt," she growled.

The storm had been bad enough. The constant hiss of the rain and thunder above masked the xashi movements. The darkened sky shielded their cold bodies from normal vision. Now a thick smoke had invaded the forest and the unmasked females, exhausted, soaked and terrified, were having trouble breathing.

"Keep goin'!" Rrourk ordered. "We're almost there."

"That's what you said… wait. I see the walls!" Naka said.

"All warriors fall back to the main group!" Rrourk shouted, hustling to catch up. He'd stayed behind, even after the two other shield guardians with him had fallen, but no matter how many he killed, more seemed to keep coming. He burst forth from the jungle, sprinting across the wide-open swath of land surrounding the Goddess' temple. The obsidian pyramid soared above the trees, its spires lost in a shroud of smoke and steam. Naka had made it to one of the massive gates and was pounding on it as he approached. "Let us in!" she shouted, beating on the door for emphasis. The remaining flowers and children huddled around her, shivering as they tried to cram themselves beneath the small alcove extending over the entrance. The Matron of Discipline turned to him, desperation filing her normally calm expression. "They won't answer."

Rrourk growled. "Everybody stand back!"

The Midnight Swords ushered everyone aside while Rrourk moved to stand before the center of the gate. He unholstered his plasma gun and fired at the door. Metal bubbled and steamed with each shot, wave after wave of concussive blasts slowly eating away at the huge door. His gun screamed as it began to overheat and he tossed it aside, holding out his hand for another weapon. A shield guardian tossed him one and Rrourk took aim.

"Stop!" a metallic voice ordered.

"Who am I speaking with?" Rrourk asked, slightly lowering the gun.

"A loyal servant of the kai."

"I am Rrourk, Captain of the Shield Guardians of the Midnight Blossom. We request sanctuary."

"That is impossible."

"What? Why?!" Rrourk shouted.

The voice did not answer.

"What about the females and children?" asked Rrourk. "Are ya just gonna watch 'em die?"

"The gates are sealed. None may enter or leave."

A Midnight Sword cried out and everyone turned to look at where she was pointing. Dark shadows flickered at the edge of the jungle. The creatures hesitated, unsure of the empty space placed between them and their prey. Then one charged forward, a hulking monster covered in spikes and gaping maw filling with long, white fangs. He roared and the rest followed squealing and screaming.

The flowers screamed and pressed against the door. Rrourk clenched the gun in his hand, trembling with rage. He cursed and ordered his warriors to form a semi-circle around the flowers, Naka joining him in the front. Bright bolts of plasma and shrieking metal shards ripped through the air, punching through earth and unholy flesh.

Ghost watched the battle, steeling himself for the inevitable collapse of the warriors' defense. He'd hesitated when the scanners had picked up the lifeless signatures of the creatures now charging across the plain, but now he was certain he'd made the right decision. Letting one of those things slip inside the temple would be disastrous. He would not, could not, risk the kai's life.

"Ghost! What are you doing?"

He turned to see Venom striding into the security center.

"I am protecting the kai."

"By letting children die?"

Ghost growled, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Do not test me today Venom."

"Ghost…"

He froze as the weak, raspy voice called out to him over the comm net. "Zaiyra? What are you doing awake?"

"Lak'shura. I know I promised to rest but… please… please let them in. I could not bear it if… if anyone else died today."

Ghost's gears sighed and whirred, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Saa. As you wish." He ran his claws through the security matrix and tapped the access code to open the doors.

"I have warriors on their way to the gate," Venom said as he took off to join them.

Ghost turned back to the monitors, watching as the creatures drew closer, the one called Rrourk hefting a large great axe and roaring in defiance.

The massive lead xashi charged straight for him and Rrourk lunged, hacking off one of its four hands. He danced back as acidic blood sprayed the air, his skin stinging as stray droplets ate through his tough hide. He was amazed at how fast the creature was as it swung its three remaining arms at him, roaring in frustration as he dodged out of the way. Blood and body parts littered the ground, his sandal smoking as he stepped into a pool of xashi organs. Rrourk's great axe now served as a shield and it took all his strength to block his opponent's brutal strikes. Sparks flew as it clawed at the weapon, howling in rage as Rrourk charged and shoved it back, the creature falling back and crushing one its brethren beneath its spiked back. The creature roared as it tried to right itself and he saw his chance. He pounced, bone and cartilage snapping as he smashed his axe into its knee. Rrourk swung again, lopping off its two right hands, blood spraying the scarred earth. The monster screamed as he buried the head of his blade into its abdomen again and again.

Suddenly, the creature grabbed him by the belt with its one remaining hand, jerking him forward. Threitak burned through Rrourk's limbs and focused his mind, the world bright and glittering with a thousand details. As he fell forward, he watched the creature's black lips slide away to reveal two rows of razor sharp teeth, its mandibles transformed into four jagged canines. It was trying to bite him, he realized, in a last ditch effort to save itself.

Rrourk dropped his axe and roared as he swung, punching the xashi in the jaw and knocking it to the ground. His mechanized arm shoved it back against the earth before it could retaliate, gears whirring and clicking to hold it down as the creature writhed and bucked beneath him. His free hand snapped one of the long spikes protruding from its skull and with a howl he shoved it through the soft underside of its jaw. The monstrous gurgled as it choked on its own blood, screeching in pain as he shoved it through the roof of its mouth. A final thrust and the jagged spike tore through the top of its skull, blood and brains oozing from the wound.

Shouts rang out around him as he stood, the air lighting up with a barrage of plasma blasts, shrieker bullets whizzing by his head. Xashi screeched, crawling over each other to flee the overwhelming assault, the hail of shots cutting them down until nothing but steaming carcasses remained. Temple guardians suddenly surrounded him, a particularly lithe warrior catching his attention. He began giving orders and Rrourk noticed the temple gate was open, the flowers presumably safe inside. He growled at a guardian who attempted to pick up his axe, snatching it from the mud and hefting it over his shoulder. Rrourk surveyed the fallen, wishing each warrior safe passage, calling them by name if he could recognize their remains. Most were still standing or wounded and he was proud of them. The warrior barking orders approached him, but before he could say a word, Rrourk grabbed him by the armor strap running across his chest. "Are you the sjauk'la who wouldn't let us in?" he growled. Shield and temple guardians stopped what they were doing, all eyes on the confrontation, a few warriors fingering their weapons.

"Ghost was protecting the kai."

"Saa? And who are you?"

"I am Venom, also a bodyguard to the kai."

Rrourk hissed and pushed him back, limping towards the temple. "Tell that sjauk'rin bastard to stay away from me." By the time he was inside the gate, he was beginning to feel lightheaded. The next thing he knew he was on the floor, something warm and sticky coating his side. Rrek'ne was beside him, ordering him to stay awake. "Dammit! You tore the seal!" she shouted, her hand pressed against his bleeding side. "Stay with me, do you understand? Rourk? Rourk!?..."

* * *

**| \|/ |'; -'- -|**

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Deep within the Tunnels, clanless rogues, slavers, bounty hunters and thieves battled for their lives. Those who hunkered inside their underground fortresses soon found themselves trapped within a stone cage of their own making, nightmarish monsters, some wearing the faces of friends, lurking around every corner and hidden within every shadow. Those who fled to the surface were thrown into a world of chaos and fire.

The creatures smelled the fear and smoke wafting through the tunnels from above and felt the roaring vibrations of explosions. These things called to them. The newborns squealed for blood and flesh to quench the flames of hunger piercing their stomachs. The elders led the way, the urge to create more newborns making their jaws ache. Others howled and hissed, confused and lost.

But none could resist the will of the hive and like a cold, black river, the horde rose from the depths of Kuuroch to drown the burning city in blood and despair.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Please review!


	36. Fate

**Author's Note:** I'll no longer be updating my profile regularly. Follow me Adelphos_89 on Twitter for weekly story updates and feel free to direct message me if you have questions or just feel like chatting.

I'm also looking for a beta reader for the Spear Trilogy. If you know a good one or would like to volunteer that would be awesome.

* * *

**Fate**

* * *

She was lost.

The Star Tower was an endless maze of concentric circles stacked on top of one another and in the crimson depths Ajenke had lost sight of her mother's life heat as it vanished into thin air. The only thing she was certain of was that her mother had been going up, so she climbed, her legs burning as she pushed herself higher and higher, hoping against hope that the next horizon would give her a sign of her mother's whereabouts.

One question lingered in Ajenke's mind, one only her mother, or perhaps the Mistress, could answer – why? Why not escape when given the chance? She'd thought she'd understood the depths of her mother's hatred for the Shan and his clan.

Her obsession no longer angered Ajenke. It frightened her. And on some instinctual level, she knew that if she didn't pursue the Mistress then she'd lose her mother forever.

The scent of blood and the sound of shuffling steps made her slow and she crept on all fours up the rest of the stairwell. She peered over the edge, instantly focusing on the limping male walking across the circular platform that was suspended in the air by ornate, swirling pillars. He was heading for another set of stairs that curved around a huge, golden statue of a xora, its massive wings and eyes wreathed in flame. Beyond it Ajenke noticed the famous golden doors of the Star Court, broken and shattered by powerful explosives, the sound of guttural roaring and shouts echoing from within.

She skirted around the edge of the platform, keeping as close to the railing as she dared and shrugging off the temptation to look down into the dizzying crimson abyss. Crouched at the bottom of the stairwell, the scent of his blood was now potent. The male paused and she froze, her hearts hammering inside her chest as she held her breath.

"If you've come to kill me, do it now," he rasped. "If you're a friend, then help me up these damn stairs."

Ajenke slowly closed the distance between them until she was at his level, staying just out of reach. He bore no sigils of clan or rank except that of his graying dreadlocks, the long tendrils bound beneath his impressive crest. He was badly wounded, deep slashes cutting into his arms and chest. The worst was sealed up. But sealant gels were meant to be a temporary fixture and by the cool look of his already pale skin, he did not have long.

"Ah, it's you," he said as he leaned against the railing. "That was a very foolish thing you did this morning, young Mistress."

"Who are you and why should I help you?" Her gaze flicked up at the golden doors for a moment as a thunderous roar echoed down from the great hall.

"My name is Harsan and I'm trying to save your friend, Ahandra."

Shock coursed through her. "What? Is she in there?" she asked, pointing towards the Star Court.

"Saa." He grunted as he grabbed the railing and pulled himself forward, slowly taking one painful step after another.

Ajenke was torn. Her mother could still be anywhere. But her friend was here, in danger and the only person trying to save her could barely walk. She hissed a curse and looped the elder's arm around her shoulders, helping him up the last few steps before setting him down by the smoldering doors.

She settled into a crouch and slowly peered around the corner.

"What do you see?"

"There are many warriors. I see the Shan with his elite guardians shouting at a male in black. There are other warriors, but I don't recognize their clan symbol. And… I see Ahandra! Oh Goddess, she has her pup with her."

"Seinu." Harsan shifted closer to her, his breath coming in shallow rasps as he leaned forward. "Who's guarding them?"

"A Thousand Blade. But for some reason he's sided with the dark warriors."

"That is Jalan, also known as Captain Tcharr. He was my former student."

"You know who the dark warriors are?" she asked, turning back to look at him.

His blood-red eyes, tired and aged, did not blink as he replied. "They are Shadow Stalkers, my kinsmen."

Ajenke growled and gripped her sword. "Impossible. Auran is the last."

"That's what my brethren and I wanted everyone to believe. Why go looking for something that doesn't exist? It makes espionage a much easier task."

"What else are you not telling me?"

"A great deal. But you must trust me when I say I have severed the bond between me and my blood clan. I exist only to protect Auran and his family. His hope is mine. And I would gladly die for it."

Her growl faded, her grip on her sword relaxing. His words appeared sincere. Satisfied that he wouldn't stab her in the back, she turned and peered around the corner again.

Ajenke's hearts stopped.

She watched as the naked form of her mother was roughly dragged onto the throne dais, her limp body leaving a fresh trail of blood. Ahandra was thrown next to her, her pup's squeaking cries ringing across the room. "Oh Goddess…" Anguish twisted her hearts and threitak's fire filled her limbs.

"What? What happened?"

Ajenke unsheathed her sword. "The Shadow Stalkers have my mother! She's wounded and if I don't do something soon she's going to die."

"Where's Ahandra?"

"With my mother. On the dais. Chjit, they're surrounded."

"Listen. Listen!" he hissed, grabbing her arm before she decided to get herself killed. "There are slave entrances all around this place. If we can..." Electric prickles shivered through the cores of Harsan's tendrils, his hackles rising as his sixth sense detected a presence behind them. He slowly turned to look behind, his relief quickly morphing into apprehension as Auran strode up the stairs towards them.

His face was masked, but his steps were filled with purpose, muscled arms tense and bright with quick-flowing blood. Harsan would need to tread cautiously around the young warrior. His mandibles spread to say something when earth-shattering explosions ripped through the Star Court. Plasma blasts shrieked through air, followed by the clash of weapons and howling battle cries.

"Auran, yan!" Harsan barked as he ran for the entrance.

He paused, turning his mask's passionless gaze on the elder yautja.

"You must not go in there until Natharrak is dead, do you understand me? He will use you to strike down the Shan."

His voice came out as a muffled growl behind his mask. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"

Shouts of pain and rage filled the air, the trio flinching as a plasma bolt shrieked through the archway and slammed into the back of the golden xora, orange sparks showering down upon them.

Harsan had to shout over the thunder of the battle. "Natharrak is attempting to destroy the Thousand Blades! The Shan is confronting him now!" The revelation rooted Auran to the spot and for the moment, Harsan had the young warrior's attention.

Ajenke glanced between the two, utterly bewildered and growing increasingly frustrated the longer they waited to form a plan. Her mother and Ahandra were in there for the Goddess' sake.

"Natharrak wanted to be certain you would hand over the sword of Ashann to him, so he had me implant a device inside you before you fought Iyeiden. Do you remember that day?"

Auran looked away. There was still pain there. And confusion. Harsan allowed himself to indulge in a brief moment of shame. "You didn't kill Iyeiden."

His head snapped up.

"When you hesitated to finish your guardian, Natharrak took control and forced you to kill him."

Auran's shock quickly turned to rage and he shoved Harsan to the ground, the edge of his darkblade pressed against his throat. "Get. It._ Out!"_

"I can't, not without the right equipment," Harsan rasped. "But there is a way to shut it off."

_"How?" _

"The master control is lodged inside Natharrak's skull, directly linked to his mind. If he dies, the link is severed."

Auran snarled, his hand shaking as he gripped the haft of his blade. "Your blood was all over the clinic and around Saira's body. Ahandra would've been with her. Where is she?!"

"Jalan— Captain Tcharr took her." The elder warrior growled in pain, his chest heaving with sharp gasps as the blade bit into his skin. Bright trails of blood trickled from his throat.

Auran's grip on his arm tensed and through the dark veil of his mask's lenses Harsan saw his eyes widen in understanding. "You were following him. She's in there, isn't she?"

"Auran, I'm no longer a part of the sharin'atha—"

"Isn't she?!"

"If you go in there, you'll both die!"

"Yak'sallah! I should have never trusted you!" Auran jumped to his feet and bolted for the room.

"Iyan! Auran!" Harsan shouted after him, cursing as he struggled to his knees. "Ajenke, go after the fool!"

Ajenke muttered a curse and darted into the room, keeping behind the curving line of pillars to avoid notice. Auran had disappeared, utilizing the gift of invisibility. She would've kill for a cloaking device right now, she thought as metal shurikens whizzed by. It was an all out bloody brawl in the center of the room, the Shan's elite versus the legendary warriors of N'tharralis.

Without warning she was jerked to the floor, several plasma bolts shrieking past and smashing into the white-stone walls. _I should be dead_. She stared at the steaming holes the shots had punched into the stone, the invisible grip on her arm quickly dragging her behind a pillar. "Stay close," hissed the voice of Auran once he pulled her upright. "Keep to the walls."

"You have a plan?"

"Saa. You're going to charge the bastard guarding the dais."

"And you?"

"I'm going to kill him," he growled.

On his mark, they sprinted around the edge of the room, Auran placing himself between her and the battle, the hot breath of superheated plasma searing her skin as it howled past. Ajenke roared as soon as they were in the open and charged up the dais steps, the one called Jalan rushing in to meet her. Their blades never met, the dark warrior jerking forward with a bone-crunching halt, bright red blood spilling over an invisible hand and spattering onto the floor. The Shadow Stalker gasped, his head slowly twisting in confusion as he looked for his killer. Auran ripped his blade free and the shocked male tumbled to the floor.

Ajenke side-stepped the crumpled body and rushed to her mother's side. "Nana? Nana!?" she cried, shaking her shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief as her mother's eyes fluttered open.

"Ajenke?" Her voice was barely a whisper, her hand limp in Ajenke's trembling grip.

"I'm going to get you out of here, nana." She pressed her hands against the gaping wound in her mother's abdomen, her flesh ashen and cool to the touch. "Stay with me, do you understand? Stay with me." Ajenke looked around for bandages, locking eyes with a terrified and exhausted Ahandra, a pup cradled in one arm. Her friend had a wild light in her eyes and her robes hung from her unnaturally thin frame.

Ahandra wasn't sure whether to believe what she was seeing. Her friend was here. But that was impossible. She flinched as something cold brushed her skin, the air around her crackling with white arcs of energy. Auran's smell and warmth washed over her and she warbled in shock and joy as his strong arms wrapped around her and Seinu, the pain and the fear of the last several days disappearing.

"Why do you never stay where I leave you?" he rumbled softly.

"Because I know you'll always find me," she chittered, burying her face in his shoulder, his shallow purr chasing away her worries.

"I'm getting you out of here," he said as he looped his arms around her shoulders and knees.

"Don't move, Auran!"

He froze. Ahandra felt every muscle tense within him and he held her tight against his chest. Unbidden, Harsan's warning whispered in the back of her mind. _Do not go near your bondmate until I tell you it's safe. _

"Well, isn't this perfect?" Natharrak's hiss cut through the sudden quiet, dozens of bodies and limbs littering the blood-spattered floor. "I couldn't have planned this better. How good of you to join your brothers, Auran."

His growl trembled through her body. "Go to the lowest hell, Natharrak. You are no brother of mine."

"So, you've decided to remain Shaidra's kalai? I am disappointed," he said. Natharrak looked over at the Shan and his one remaining Thousand Blades' warrior. Even though he was outnumbered, surrounded by a half dozen people who wanted him dead, he didn't seem bothered by this. In fact, he continued to taunt the Shan, mercilessly, as if he'd already won, the confrontation and bloodshed a mere formality. "By now your entire family is dead. I had my best sent to infiltrate your pathetic defenses to ensure that the line of Kuuroch was eliminated forever. Just like your _father_ did to my family."

"So help me, Natharrak…" Shaidra growled, his crimson eyes gleaming with hatred and anguish. His hands shook as he was overcome with rage, ragged, guttural breaths wracking his massive frame.

The dark warrior smirked. "You'll do what? Kill me? I told you before. I don't care. We're all going to die today. It's just a question of when and how." He looked at Auran, baring his fangs in a malicious grin. Ahandra clung to him, a terrible sense of foreboding gripping her hearts. "I take that back. I would like to see you die first… by Auran's hand."

Suddenly, Auran's limbs went slack and she slid onto the floor as he slowly rose to his feet. "Auran? Auran, what are you doing?" She juggled Seinu in her arms, trying to grab her bondmate as he walked away.

He didn't answer or look back. Instead, he unsheathed his darkblade and then a second sword, each fluid step taking him closer to the Shan. Without looking, Auran tossed Natharrak the second blade.

"Thank you, Auran," he said, smiling as he gently caressed the glass weapon. Slowly, it began to glow with an ethereal inner light, veins of white fire spreading from the hilt of the sword until the entire blade burned as bright as a star. Natharrak twirled it, admiring the illusion of flames that appeared as it arced through the air.

Ahandra's breath caught. She'd seen that sword in her dreams.

"The sword of Ashann, Threitar'sek. The Pure Flame. I should thank you as well, Shaidra. Without this gift I could never have convinced the High Clan to delay its response to your city's crisis. When they learned about your plan to usurp them, they were quite willing to negotiate with me." He chuckled darkly. "Ironically, by letting Kuuroch fall, the virus will almost certainly spread across the world and destroy them as well."

"You're insane. You would risk destroying an entire _world_ for the sake of revenge?"

Natharrak smirked at the Shan's accusation. "No less insane than believing a statue can hear your prayers. Say I only kill you and your family. Then what? Another clan would rise up to take its place. And this would go on and on, endless bloodshed without purpose. So I decided to stop the madness in one fell swoop." His eyes widened and his mandibles pulled back into a wild grin. "In the end, we're all just an unfortunate accumulation of complex chemicals, living long enough to discern the vanity of our infinitesimal lives before disintegrating beneath the weight of the cosmic ages. I realized this when I was young and for a moment, I saw it. The endless void. The icy fate of eternity unraveling, the stars dimming and the ashes of the universe scattering into the nothingness!"

_The nothingness that destroyed Kuuroch in my dream, _Ahandra thought. The world hadn't ripped apart because that's what was going to happen to it. That was Natharrak's _belief. _It was the Shadow Stalkers' vision of the end of time. Everything was falling into place. The not-Auran. The sword. The burning city. It was happening so quickly. Too quickly. What else was she missing?

Her eyes widened. The prophecy.

_When the dragon thirsts for more than light_

_And weeping maiden's tears burn the night,_

_Then shall the star born appear._

_Slave and Warrior,_

_Savior and Abomination,_

_Two in one, sealed by blood,_

_Three in one, sealed by fate._

_The dead will rise and the stars will fall,_

_Till the destined one wields the Pure Flame._

_Then shall the star born die,_

_That the curse may be broken,_

_And the truth set free._

She quietly mumbled it to herself as she rocked back and forth to soothe Seinu. He hiccupped every few moments, too exhausted to cry anymore.

_The dead will rise and the stars will fall till the destined one wields the Pure Flame. _Threitar'sek. Her gaze flicked to Natharrak, the glowing sword held at his side. Was he the destined one? Auran was the star born, which meant he was going to die soon. But what about the curse?

She squeezed her eyes shut as the thunder of heavy blood pounded against her skull. The visions had ceased. For the first time in her life she wished she could go into the dream state. She was missing something. Something important. It niggled at the back of her mind. An important detail her tired mind had overlooked.

The Shan's roar ripped her from her thoughts and she watched in horror as Auran charged the huge warrior. His red-caped guardian rushed to intercept him, sparks flying as their blades smashed against each other. The two danced and swirled across the floor, Auran slowly overwhelming the more heavily armored warrior. With a piercing shriek, the bodyguard's golden blade tore in half, the end of the blade clattering across the hall. The shocked warrior barely had time to dodge Auran's first ferocious strike. The next strike tore through the jaw of his mask, jarring the exhausted warrior and he stumbled back. Auran wove his darkblade through his outstretched arms, slashing his black sword across his golden breastplate. Metal screeched and blood sprayed the air, the warrior crying out as he collapsed to the floor. Ahandra flinched as her bondmate stabbed his blade into the fallen warrior, silencing his groans.

The Shan charged Natharrak, but Auran was already in pursuit. He tackled Shaidra to the ground quickly rolling away and springing to his feet. The Shan roared and charged.

"Ahandra." She flinched as a hand shook her shoulder and she tore her eyes away from the fight. "Come on. We need to get out of here. Help me with mother, please." Her friend's desperate eyes pulled Ahandra from the grips of her own anxiety and she crawled over to the Mistress' still form, setting Seinu to the side. Her body was so cool and breaths so faint that for a second Ahandra thought she was dead and Ajenke was blind with grief. The flutter of eyelashes and twitching limbs banished such thoughts.

"We need to keep the bandages in place while we move her," said Ajenke, tearing her breechcloth into strips.

Ahandra's stomach clenched as Auran parried a strike she was certain would've killed a slower warrior.

Ajenke scanned the dead around them. "We could use cloaks to keep her warm—"

"Don't think I forgot about you two." Natharrak's sneering voice made Ahandra cringe. When she'd touched him earlier, his thoughts had become hers, his sick, twisted joy at the sight of so much chaos and death filling her for a brief moment. She'd seen the xashi, the burning city, Auran training beneath the Iron Towers, the deal with the Hish.

Her breath caught. The deal with the Hish. _Destroy all traces of our technology those filthy huunan have managed to acquire. Kill all who've come in contact with it._ Natharrak's words rang in her head. The Hish were going to destroy the Weyland facility and everyone who worked there.

Ajenke's shadow fell over her and she looked up to see her friend stepping in between her and Natharrak. Scorch razor in hand, she hissed at the approaching male.

"A brave gesture. Brave, but pointless." He drew closer, completely relaxed, not even bothering to glance behind at the titanic struggle unfolding behind him, as if he knew what was happening. Or maybe he just didn't care.

Ajenke growled and primed her rifle, shifting into a ready stance.

Ahandra crouched, ready to grab Seinu and run. The soldier in her bristled at the idea of running. She wanted a gun. But there weren't any guns, at least none nearby.

A howl broke the tense standoff and all three glanced at the two warriors. Shaidra was on his knees, one of his arms replaced with a bloody stump. Auran stepped on his blade, a solid punch knocking the Shan to the ground.

Ragged breaths echoed from within his mask, his muscular body littered with cuts and slashes, the blood from them soaking his tan flesh. Shaidra lay broken on the floor, helpless to defend himself.

But Auran did not deliver the final blow.

"Hmm." Natharrak turned away from the two females, more interested in humiliating his lifelong foe one more time before dispatching him. He stood over the Shan, drawing the glowing white blade over his bloodied chest. His mandibles spread but the words never came.

A crack punctured the heavy silence and Natharrak's head exploded in a shower of gore, his body thumping lifelessly to the ground.

Auran shivered and fell to his knees, gasping as he looked around in confusion. It quickly turned to horror as his eyes fell on Shaidra's mangled form.

Relief filled Ahandra and she looked across the room to see Harsan slumped against the entryway, sniper rifle cradled in his lap.

Ajenke huffed. "Nice shot—"

Bone-wrenching cracks pierced the air and all eyes snapped to the bloody heap that was Jalan, an empty injector capsule clattering to the floor from one of his hands. His body convulsed and foam frothed from his gaping mandibles as he gurgled in agony. He howled as black spikes ripped through his back and spinal bones tore through his flesh, blossoming into a long, sinuous tail tipped with a wickedly curved blade. Black carapace enfolded bulging muscles and acidic blood dripped from shredded fingertips as long, razor-sharp claws slid into place. His howls of pain morphed into sibilant hissing and the one that had once been Jalan gracefully rose to its feet.

"What the sjauk is that!?" Ajenke slowly backed away and set her weapon's sights on the dark creature.

"Ahandra! Ajenke! Run, God dammit, run!" Auran roared as he surged forward.

It charged Ajenke, its unearthly shriek sending icy shards of fear through her. She roared and unleashed several bursts of screeching metal. The creature shrugged off the hail of razor-edged discs, mouth gaping as it leapt for her throat.

A body suddenly collided into Ajenke from the side, sending her tumbling down the short staircase, her gun skittering across the bloody floor. A scream filled the air and she looked up in horror as the creature suck its fangs into Ahandra's shoulder and claw at her flesh.

"Yaaan!" Auran slammed into it, the force of the blow wrenching Ahandra from its jaws.

The creature quickly shoved him off, a powerful kick knocking him across the dais. Ajenke scrambled for her gun, slipping on the bloody marble as she dove for the weapon. The creature's shrieks and Auran's roar filled the chamber and Ajenke jumped to her feet, turning in time to see Auran ram a spear through the leaping monster's chest. Carapace cracked and the creature wailed in pain, sickly green blood oozing from its cold body.

It grabbed the shaft and slashed at him with its tail, sparks flashing as its needle-pointed end bounced off his armor. With a roar, he ripped the spear free and jabbed it through the creature's gaping mouth, the metal tip exploding out of the back of its elongated skull.

Auran let go of the spear, the monster's twitching body slumping to the ground, smoke filling the air as its acidic blood slowly ate through the stone.

Ajenke rushed to dais, Auran cradling Ahandra in his arms as he applied sealant gel to her mangled shoulder. He called her name over and over, running his hand over her cool cheeks. "She's not answering." He looked up at Ajenke, desperation filling his eyes. "What's wrong with her?"

Ahandra's breath came in shallow gasps as her dilated pupils swallowed her quivering orange irises. Trembling limbs contracted and locked, the stench of blood filling the air as her skin began to blister and crack around the bite mark.

Ajenke didn't answer, guilt and fear tightening her throat. She pressed her mandibles against her fangs and looked around for more cloth to use as bandages, freezing when she saw the Shan standing over her mother. The stubby tendrils on the back of her neck rose and she flared her crest, growling a warning.

He turned his tired gaze to her, his slumped shoulders indicating he was not interested in fighting. "Who are you?"

"I am Ajenke Djaidesh'erin, Mistress of the Midnight Blossom. Now get away from my mother."

He sighed and turned his gaze back to the Mistress. "Your mother…"

She bristled and primed her scorch razor. "I'll not ask again. Get away from her."

Ajenke might as well have been a fly buzzing about his head. He crouched over her mother, his one remaining hand resting over the deep stomach wound. "Before you shoot me, answer one question: Why did she hate me?"

She stared at him, her brow furrowing. "I don't know." She cut him off before he could reply. "And I don't _care_. Whatever you did, it tore her apart and for the last 25 years I've watched her suffer. If I asked her why she wanted to kill you she'd strike me and tell me to never speak to her about it. I learned to keep my tongue still and hate you as well."

"Who is your father?"

She growled. "That's another question."

"I consider them linked."

"Yan! No more questions."

Her mother shifted. Wheezing gasps escaped her chest and she coughed, moaning something.

Shaidra ignored the young female's growls as he leaned in on his remaining right arm, his long tendrils curtaining around Nyrendi's pale face as he pressed his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes and breathed in her long forgotten scent as he strained to hear her rasping whispers.

"Shai… Shaidra. A-Ajenke is yours. I thought… I thought you sent… sent your assassins. Jaiendra… Jaiendra's clan sent them… The ship crashed… slavers came… I-I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" Her last words faded away with her final breath.

Throbbing pain filled his hearts and skull and he was thrown back to the moment when he'd learned the ship he'd secretly stowed Nyrendi on had been destroyed. He'd lost her. Again. His limbs trembled as he pulled back, taking in her beautiful, frozen features before gently brushing his mandibles against hers.

Shaidra let out a shuddering sigh as he pulled away and stiffly climbed to his feet. He couldn't die. Not yet. There was one last thing he had to do.

Ajenke gaped at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. A soft warble escaped her throat when she looked down at Nyrendi's body. "Iyan."

_Ajenke is yours. _He saw the resemblance. She'd taken after his mother, Saira.

Her heaving cries warped into a seething growl and she brought up her rifle against him, a trembling finger clenching the trigger.

A small flicker of pride filled him. She'd inherited his temper and resolve. Good. "These are your mother's last words."

"Spit them out! Then I kill you."

He felt lightheaded, the Star Court and mess of bodies beyond blurring into a purple haze, silhouetting Ajenke's glowing figure. "A long time ago, your mother and I were secret lovers. It was a secret because she was of a lesser clan and their bloodline had not yet been approved to mingle with the Thousand Blades', especially mine, since I was next in line to lead the clan. When the clan wars began, I stowed her away on a ship to another city, where she would be protected by an ally. But the ship was destroyed. The explosion killed everyone onboard and I believed her dead."

His daughter —the words felt strange to think— lowered her gun slightly.

"Nyrendi told me she… she thought I had sent the assassins that crashed the ship and tried to kill her."

"Who sent them?"

Shaidra growled as he glanced over at his first bondmate's body. "Jaiendra."

Ajenke trembled, her eyes wild with pain. She wanted revenge. But the shan'ra was dead.

"There's one other thing she told me. You are my daughter."

She growled. "I don't believe you."

"A blood test would confirm it but I will take Nyrendi's word. Whether you believe it or not doesn't matter." The Shan limped down the dais stairs towards Natharrak's body and grabbed the now dull Threitar'sek. "Thet."

A feminine voice crackled to life from his wrist computer. "Saa?"

"I assume you've heard everything."

"I have been monitoring you since you left the control center."

"I need you to bear witness." He staggered back over to Ajenke, holding up his wrist comp before her. "Take the laser quill."

Numb, she plucked the thin instrument free. He took it, his hand shaking as he reached for her forehead.

She stepped back. "What in the hells are you doing?!"

Darkness clouded his vision and he staggered. Chills raced over his clammy skin. "Dammit girl, I'm marking you. Now step forward before I die."

"Why?"

"Ajenke," Thet chirped. "He will not hurt you. The mark will protect you."

"Let me do this," Shaidra rasped. "For Nyrendi."

Ajenke steadied him as he wobbled. She glanced between him and her mother, sighing in defeat. "Fine."

"Try to relax," said Thet. "The marks will heal cleaner."

She tensed as he pressed the sharpened edge of the quill against her brow, growling as the red laser bit into her skin. Her vanity forced her to relax her forehead, digging her claws into her palms to distract herself from the searing pain cutting across her scalp.

"With this mark, I bestow the right and authority to rule Kuuroch in its entirety to my blood heir, Ajenke Djaidesh'erin." With a final stroke, he finished the four-winged xora, the mark glowing an angry red beneath her crest. "May the Creators' wisdom guide you." He pressed the hilt of Threitar'sek into her palm.

She stared grim faced and pale at the blade as it began to gleam.

He was a terrible father, Shaidra thought. The best he could offer Nyrendi's child was a dying city. "Thet."

"Saa?"

"Watch over her."

"Saa."

He didn't hear her answer as his eyes drew shut. He was so tired. The Shan crumpled to his knees and collapsed against the cool floor next to Nyrendi.

Ajenke trembled, her breath coming in shallow, shuddering gasps as she stared down at the lifeless bodies of her parents, her forehead on fire. The right and authority to rule Kuuroch. The words echoed in her mind. Oh Goddess, this was insane. Her mother was dead. She wasn't ready for this.

"Kill her."

Harsan's voice jarred Ajenke out of a near panic attack.

"Auran, listen to me."

"Yan! Get away!"

She felt hollow inside. Numbly, she observed the one called Harsan pleading with Auran. Ahandra was moaning and shaking, the bite mark on her arm now swollen and black.

"The xashi's venom has tainted her blood, can't you see that? She'll change. She'll kill you and Seinu!"

"Yak'sallah, I can save her!"

Harsan took a step forward, quickly backing off as Auran loosed a sharp hiss. "Auran, you must listen to me. Natharrak infused the xashi distributed in the Tunnels with a strain from the serpents. Anyone bitten by someone infected is also infected."

"How do I stop the infection?"

"By killing her."

"There has to be a cure!"

"It doesn't exist."

Auran growled and looked down at Ahandra, tightening his grip as violent trembles wracked her thin frame, drool dribbling from her mouth. "I-I can't."

"You _must_. If she changes she will try to kill or infect all of us."

Auran squeezed his eyes shut as anguish tore through him. He knew Harsan was right. Despite her racing pulse, her limbs felt chill against his flesh. Any second now she would be transformed into a hideous monster that wanted to tear him limb from limb, just like Jalan, and he would be forced to kill her. Ahandra's death was inevitable.

His hands trembled as he turned her face away, shifting her until her clammy shoulders were pressed against his back. Nausea gripped his stomach as he locked his arm under her jaw and wrapped a hand around the side of her head. Harsan looked away. Ajenke choked on a warbled sob.

Auran tensed his arms, closed his eyes and with a quick jerk, snapped Ahandra's neck, the sickening crunch rending his hearts into a thousand pieces.

* * *

Author's Note: Yeaaah... I'm evil.

But I'm not done yet, no siree. Four more chapters to go people. I will try to get them out as quickly as possible. Next chapter: Starborn


	37. Starborn

**Author's Note: **Apologies to anyone who speaks Spanish. I had to turn to Google Translate. If you know how to correctly say what one of my characters was trying to ask, please let me know.

Also, I've changed my mind about not updating my profile. Apparently, I confused some people. I find it kind of funny since as soon as I said I wasn't going to update it anymore I got a ton of hits to the thing. Just goes to show what happens when you take away something, amiright? ;) So expect to see updates every few days on there again.

* * *

**Starborn**

* * *

Ahandra opened her eyes.

Spiraling clouds rushed across a golden sky, their feathery tendrils bathed in orange and pink. A warm breeze brushed over her naked skin and she gasped, her chest heaving as she filled her lungs with its salty scent, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. She was alive. But where was she?

Ahandra glanced around and found herself nestled inside a shallow valley, surrounded by small dunes covered in whispering grass. The constant thunder of unseen waves and the hiss of sea spray sliding across the sand drowned all other sounds.

Pink sand sifted like silk over her hands as she slowly sat up, searching for the water's edge. She crawled up one of the dunes, the tufted grass tickling her calves as a vast ocean filled her view, its dark waters glittering as the first sun rose above the horizon. The amethyst eye of Sa'arezan hung low in the sky, falling stars flashing beneath the ringed moon as it drew the crashing waves back into the deep.

The beautiful scene blurred as tears streamed down her cheeks.

She touched her face, gasping as she felt soft lips, a pointed nose and fuzzy lashes. Her trembling hands continued to explore the face she'd forgotten, running slender fingers through her wild hair, the short locks whipping against her cheeks as they danced in the wind.

She was human.

Or was this just another dream? Ahandra rubbed her eyes dry as she looked around for any clues as to how she ended up here. The last thing she remembered was pain. A terrible fire eating her from the inside out. And Auran's voice…

Her throat tightened and fresh tears sprang into the corners of her eyes. The anguish in his voice had been unbearable. She'd never seen him so vulnerable and desperate. But the pain had kept her from answering. And then everything had gone dark.

Behind her lay groves of strange palm trees with willow-like branches that grew in clusters. Beyond that rose high mountains encased in verdant forests that echoed with birdsong and the whistling clicks of insects. Without her infrared vision, she did not trust the dark woods and Ahandra turned back to the ocean, sliding down the soft dune and jogging through the rolling hills until she reached the flat beach, the damp sand cool against the soles of her feet.

She lingered over the green grass and admired the blue and purple shells revealed by the bubbling waves. Ahandra missed this, the mesmerizing textures and shades reflected in visible light.

"Eee!" She jumped as an orange crustacean popped up out of the sand and skittered around her toes, shivers prickling her arms as she watched it scurry away. She quickly dropped them to her sides, feeling slightly sheepish, glad no one had been able to see her squeak in terror at something as silly as an alien crab. Her army buddies would've given her hell. _Auran probably would've found it cute though. _She sighed and wondered what sort of dream this was as she turned to walk down the lonely stretch of sand.

Ahandra froze as soon as she noticed the yautja.

Motionless, he stared at her from his perch, a gray rock jutting from beneath the edge of the dune line. His red robes and charms marked him a priest, but he carried a spear. It lay across his thighs, gleaming in the light of Feiren.

His eyes squinted and he let out a several chuffling clicks.

Ahandra's brows pulled together in confusion. Was he laughing?

"Watch out for the sand crabs. They have stingers."

She must have been gaping like a fish because he chuckled again. As his laughter faded his expression grew serious. His yellow eyes bored into hers and Ahandra had to brace herself to keep from glancing away like she'd been taught.

He grunted. "So this is the legendary starborn."

Ahandra sucked in a sharp breath. _She _was the starborn?

"I suspected the One would choose someone unconventional, but I did not expect you would be so… alien. Or female." He rested his chin on his fist. "You seem surprised?"

"I… Ha, I just… You can speak English?"

"Prefiere usted Español?"

Ahandra smiled and shook her head. Show off. "No, this language is fine, um…" She placed her hands on her hips and took a deep breath. "Okay, look, here's the deal. Who are you, where am I and how did I get here? And I thought Auran was the starborn. Asharah and Gaidulus were sure he was the one who would save Kuuroch."

A deep rumble rolled through him. "I've yet to meet anyone who was able to understand a prophecy beforehand."

"But you do?"

"Yes. And no." He gracefully rose to his feet and leapt to the ground, landing with a soft thud. He towered over her, his long, black tendrils swaying in the wind. "Walk with me and I will explain everything." He hoisted his spear over his shoulder and removed the outer layer of his red robes, offering them to her to wear.

Ahandra hesitated, glancing between the priest and the red cloth in his hand. "Thank you." She wrapped the smooth fabric around shoulders, the ends fluttering about her legs in the constant wind that streamed across the beach.

Once they'd settled into their strides, he began. "You asked three questions. Allow me to ask three in return. These will be important, particularly the last, so pay close attention." He kept his gait slow, allowing her to walk beside him at a comfortably brisk pace.

"My name is Achande. The descendants of my followers know me as Ashann, the Prophet of the One." He growled and gave her a hard look when she tried to interrupt. "All of your questions will be answered."

She mumbled an apology and kept her head down. She must be dreaming, she decided. But this vision was strange. It was so peaceful compared to the nightmares that had come before.

"Although you may have seen my story carved into the walls of Kuuroch, I will tell it the way it used to be told, before time mythologized it." Achande's growl seemed to drown out the roar of the waves and Ahandra swore the sky darkened for a moment. "A long time ago, there was a young warrior destined to become one of the greatest warlords in a thousand years. There was nothing he could not kill, no female he could not make his. With each passing day his skill and pride grew, caring little for those he offended or abused. One day, he learned of a warrior within his territory that some of his enemies claimed was better than he. When the warrior learned that they spoke of a clanless rogue that scurried in the darkness and defended the weak and slaves from those that were stronger, he scoffed and paid the rumors no mind because surely such a yautja was insane. But with each warrior the rogue sent fleeing or killed, the more it irritated him. Some began to whisper that the rogue had hunted the same beasts as the young warrior using great cunning and skill. Finally, his pride could no longer bear such insult. He issued a challenge to the rogue. The coward had one day to meet him in the dual square, where all manner of disagreements were settled when the arbiters considered the matter to be beneath their review. Za'erane, his concubine and favorite companion, begged him not to fight. He slapped her, angry that she would dare suggest he back down after issuing a challenge. He would look foolish and cowardly. And he was neither."

Achande stopped, his eyes distant. "Much to his pleasure, the rogue appeared at the last moment, stepping forward from amongst the crowd like a disembodied shadow. The warrior scoffed at his ragged armor and short stature. He decided to finish the miserable wretch in one swift blow and silence those who would dare mock his rightfully earned prowess forever." His yellow irises glowed with an inner light and his voice dropped to a whisper. "But it was not so."

Cold waves licked Ahandra's ankles, washing over her feet and burying her toes into the wet sand. She said nothing, entranced by the tale. Here was the story she'd seen the carved into the walls of the bedroom during her sha'oul and in her dreams. The story she'd pestered others in the Midnight Blossom about incessantly. The story of Ashann the Prophet and Sa'arezan the Cursed.

"The dark rogue was swift and lithe. He did not fight with the visceral ferocity of a hunter, but with an unexpected discipline and grace that unbalanced the warrior. The rogue dodged his every swing, redirected each of his strikes, as if he knew exactly when and where the warrior would try to strike. With each failed attempt to end his foe's life, the warrior grew more and more angry. Blind with rage, he over swung. The nimble rogue ducked and lunged, sinking his long knife into his chest. The taunting crowd was silenced and disbelief filled the warrior as his blood poured onto the stone. His enemy let go of the knife, took a step back and pulled off his mask…"

"And it was Za'erane, wasn't it?"

Achande looked across the ocean and gazed up at Sa'arezan, her crescent silhouette fading away as the morning light grew stronger. "Yes. I was too shocked to say anything. In my selfish heart I could not understand why she'd betrayed me. I had cared for her since we were children and no matter how many females came to my bed I always returned to her arms. She was my confidant, my center. But my affection was a simple thing. I always saw her as a female and a slave. I could not fathom that she would use her ability to quickly absorb information to pick up on my martial skill. Nor could I understand her hunger for justice, to protect those who could not protect themselves. Such a concept is foreign to yautja. The only mercy in life is death."

"What happened to her? In the carvings she—"

"Kills herself." The light in his eyes died. "But not because she cared about me, although in some ways she did. She took her life as an honorable warrior, so that none could claim her skull. I, on the other hand, was left to die. I had been beaten by a female slave. My skull was worth nothing."

"How did you survive?"

He rumbled. "By a Will greater than my own. I woke up in an old hermit's hut. He'd dragged me there. Said he'd been expecting me. And that's how my journey as a prophet began." He began to walk again and Ahandra stumbled to keep up as she pulled her feet from the heavy, sucking sand. "He was the one who wrote the prophecies. Old Grey Eyes." He chuffed. "He was blind too."

"There are more prophecies?"

He ignored her question. "But that story is even longer and time is short." He hoisted his spear over his other shoulder and gestured at the pink beach and grand mountains. "What you see is the southern edge of the territory of Kuuroch. We are here. And we are not."

"Why?"

Achande turned and looked her into eyes. "Because you are dead."

Ahandra froze. "What?" She took several deep breaths, tugging the red cloth tight around her shoulders. She'd been bitten. Auran had been holding her. And Harsan had been there. She remembered them arguing.

_Auran, the xashi's venom has tainted her blood. She'll change. She'll kill you and Seinu! _

_Yak'sallah, I can save her! There has to be a cure!_

_It doesn't exist. You must kill her!_

A hand covered her mouth, as she tried to hold back her sobs. _Oh my God. I didn't dream that. _ She took a step back. _No. _

"Ahandra…"

"No!" She flung the red robes into the sand and strode away, Achande's sharp bark stopping her. Ahandra's chest heaved with ragged sobs and she furiously wiped away tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She refused to look at him. "What do you want?"

"I've answered your three questions. Now you will answer mine."

She wished she could growl. "Why does that matter? You couldn't have told me I was dead _first?"_

"You didn't ask that first." He cut her off. "If you want to know why you are here, in between worlds, you will answer the questions."

In between worlds? Ahandra wiped away her tears and crossed her arms. "Fine."

"When you looked into Natharrak's mind, what did you see?"

"Chaos. Death."

"Be specific." Achande rumbled.

Ahandra sighed and closed her eyes, hugging herself as she delved into the tainted memories. The one with his family being killed was always the strongest. Then there was his obsession with his experiments, the cries of the rats and children he'd used unbearable. The sick bastard had justified his actions by believing everyone was going to die when he destroyed the city, so it hadn't mattered. His sick pleasure at Auran killing Iyeiden. The deal with the Hish. Someone named Raienthril…

Her eyes snapped open. "He had a back-up plan." She turned around. "How did you know I would remember that?"

"There are rules I cannot break, one of which is telling you what you must do."

"Why not?"

"I know it is hard to understand, but there is a point to all of this. You will know it shortly."

Ahandra picked up the cloak, dusting the sand off of it and handing it back to him. "I'm sorry. When you find out you're dead it's…"

He gently pushed it back towards her. "Surprising."

"You could say that, yeah." She was still reeling from the news. Ahandra hugged the slightly damp fabric against her body, the warm sun now beating down on them. Iren was beginning to peak over the horizon.

When she felt ready, they began to walk again, discussing what she'd seen inside Natharrak's mind. "He betrayed the Shan. And everyone else. But the way Natharrak used him… I feel sorry for him. His free will was taken away. Couldn't Raienthril stop the bombs now that Natharrak is dead?"

"Raienthril's mind has been under the influence of Natharrak's machine for so long, I fear the lost connection will drive him insane," said Achande. "Now for my second question: What happened to you when you were transformed by the serpents in your dreams?"

"What does that have to do with…"Ahandra sighed again when he clenched his mandibles and raised an eyebrow. "I know, I know. I have to wait for the last question."

He nodded.

"Okay, well, sometimes I'm bitten. Sometimes I'm already changed. But I always hear voices. Sort of. It's hard to explain." Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the sensation. "It's like… an instinctive understanding or a sixth sense. And I was more than myself, if that makes sense? I was filled with this incredible _hunger_. All of us. The serpents I mean." She huffed. "I wish I'd learned more about the them. The elders called them demons when I would listen in on the stories they would tell the children."

Achande kept silent.

_He's saving his last question, _Ahandra surmised. They walked in silence as she tried to remember anything important she'd overheard about the crusades. "The city-states take turns waging war on the serpents. When they purge a world, it takes a long time because you have to make sure you've killed every single one or they'll turn into a Queen and just create more."

He looked down her with an expectant look in his eyes, as if she'd just said the magic words. "What?"

"I think that's close enough." He stopped and laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her as well.

She took a startled step back when she turned to look down the beach, the way blocked by a massive silver-framed archway that hadn't been there a moment ago. Flowing white light slipped between the crevices, dissipating into sparkling mist as the wind carried it away. The crystalline structure absorbed the suns' light and refracting it into shimmering rainbows, creating ethereal shapes that shifted and danced.

"I believe the term 'mesmerizing' is appropriate. I think that is one of my favorite words in this tongue."

"Uh-huh." She could only gape at the beautiful structure, completely overwhelmed by the soaring architecture and intricate craftsmanship.

A clawed fingertip turned her face until she was staring up at Achande. "You are being given a very precious and dangerous choice, Alejandra 'Tyler' Vasquez."

Her eyes widened. He'd used her full name. Damn.

He let go of her chin and stabbed the bottom of his long spear into the pink sand. "Will you pass into the embrace of the One… or return to your body and save Kuuroch?"

Ahandra's breath caught. "You mean, I can go back?"

Achande growled and she realized his skin was beginning to glow with same pale light as the portal. "Yes. But at a price. Once you return, the venom in your body will reactivate and the transformation will begin again."

Her enthusiasm was instantly quelled. "But if I become a xashi what's the point of going back?"

"You have already undergone a complete metamorphosis once before. This has created a unique elasticity within your DNA." He was now glowing, his sharp eyes molten gold. Ahandra suddenly realized she'd seen him once before.

"You were the one who saved me from Natharrak when he tried to kill me."

"It was necessary to intervene."

"Thank you, but even if I transform into a xashi, how will I control them like in my dream? The only thing that could control them is a…" And then the answer hit her. It was all suddenly so obvious. "A Queen."

"Now you understand." Achande's voice rose like distant thunder.

She nodded, becoming slightly pale. So much could go wrong. It could even make things worse.

Achande's hand gently shook her shoulder. "You must choose. Time grows short."

Ahandra took a deep breath. She'd done this before. She could do it again. Even if she didn't make it, Auran, Seinu and everyone else would be safe. _Oh God, I hope you know what you're doing._ "I'm ready to go back."

"You will only have a brief window of time to control the process. After that, the transformation is permanent."

She flinched as the portal shattered and a thunderous wind roared down from the mountains. Achande withdrew his hand. "Be strong, starborn."


	38. Sa'era

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Chenau'ek – **sheh-NAW-eck

**Orus – **OR-russ

**Sa'era – **saa-EIR-rah – I love you

**Tharak – **THAH-ruhk

**Uskenthsa – **UU-skenth-suh

* * *

**Sa'era**

* * *

Auran clutched Ahandra's limp body against his chest, his face buried in the crook of her shoulder, unable to let go. Her life heat was fading, her once glowing skin slowly becoming ebon and cold. There'd been no last words, no chance to say good-bye. He didn't think he'd ever forget the sickening sound of her bones snapping as he'd twisted her neck.

Seinu's cries pulled him from his numb stupor and he looked up to see him wriggling in Ajenke's arms. She looked uncomfortable and exhausted as she shifted the squalling infant to her shoulder. Even that reminded him of Ahandra.

The last time he'd seen his mate, she'd been tired and if he'd asked, she would've stayed in his arms the rest of the night and given their son to one of the care givers just outside. But she'd suckled their son instead. Then he'd left for N'varak. He hadn't said goodbye. He hadn't said anything. The memory tightened his chest and sent a fresh wave of pain through his skull, but Auran forced himself to focus on the present. He had to be strong. For Seinu.

Carefully, he laid Ahandra to the side, his hearts aching as he took one last, lingering look at her frozen form. If he could trade places with her, he would. Regret threatened to overwhelm him anew and Auran turned away, choking back a sob with a harsh growl. He stood, gingerly taking his son from Ajenke.

Auran clumsily adjusted Seinu in his arms, realizing that this was the first time he'd held him. A grim resolve filled him then as he tucked the thin blanket's loose ends around him, Seinu's tiny mandibles grasping hungrily at Auran's fingers. He would not lose his son.

Auran stepped down the dais stairs, slowly making for the exit. He did not look back.

"Auran. Auran, wait! Where are you going?" said Ajenke.

"I have a ship. If you're smart, you'll come with us, Ajenke Shan'ra."

Harsan complained, but Ajenke overruled him, hauling him up and throwing one of his arms over her shoulder. "I'm dying, dammit. Just leave me."

"Yak'sallah," she hissed through her clenched fangs as she supported his limping frame.

The small group was halfway across the great hall when a sharp crack and moan made everyone freeze. Seconds ticked by, the thick musk of tension mingling with the copper tang of the blood-soaked air. A loud wail and the hissing snap of bones shattered the heavy silence.

Harsan dropped to his knees and Ajenke drew her gun and spun around, muscles taut as she searched for the source of blood chilling noise. "Oh, sjauk'rin hells you've got to be kidding me," she whispered, slightly lowering her gun. "A-Auran."

He remained frozen in place, each echoing scream another lash that tore through his already bleeding hearts. _Yan. _

"_Aaaaauuugghhh!"_

_I killed her. I killed her! _

Harsan charged his plasma rifle. "Auran, take Seinu and get out of here. You too, shan'ra."

"Sheshai'e! I'm not leaving! Ahandra was my friend. I will not let her become a monster!"

"Daka! You are the leader of Kuuroch. You do not have the luxury of indulging in personal vendettas."

"I'll say what luxuries I have and don't have, grey head!"

A piercing shriek silenced Harsan's retort and the trio watched in horror as Ahandra's small form was consumed by a dark monstrosity. Razor sharp spikes exploded from her two arms and back, her tan flesh roiling and distorting. Her skull burst through the back of her elongated neck, the black shards arching between her fanning shoulder spikes. A massive crest spread over her bulging head, her face replaced with four writhing mandibles tipped with massive fangs. The xashi stumbled to its feet, wailing in pain as organs and bones continued to shift beneath its smooth, supple skin, its dark green scales glistening in the crimson lowlight.

"Oh Goddess, is that a…"

"That's a queen." Even Harsan was stunned.

"Chjit! We can't fight that!"

"Both of you need to run. Now." Harsan aimed his sniper rifle, his tri-laser slowly angling down the xashi's massive crest. "It's stunned. If you're quiet, you can make it out." His focused his scope, the tip of the monstrous queen's head coming into sight. It was one of the few weak spots unprotected by its crown. If he could get a round through there, they might have a chance.

Ajenke tugged on Auran's arm, hissing for him to move. He didn't hear her, his horrified gaze locked on the thing that had been his mate. She'd died. He'd watched her die. This was impossible.

"Auran!" Ajenke jerked his arm, jarring the warrior. The violent gesture ripped Seinu from his half-dream state and he flinched, terrified. He screamed, afraid he was going to be shaken again. Everyone froze as his keening wail broke the silence, their eyes snapping back to the queen.

She shuddered and swung her massive head towards the sound, mandibles flaring. Harsan's plasma bolt smashed into the side on her crest and she squealed in rage, extending to her full height.

"Run!" Harsan shouted. Plasma bolts tore through the queen's chitin, the acrid stench of burnt flesh filling the air.

She howled in rage and charged, ready to rend her attacker in two. The small creature that had caused her pain fell back and she knocked its weapon away, her foot crushing its chest before it could flee. It squirmed, clawing at her toes. The sensation was irritating. She spread her jaws, ready to feast on the tiny morsel.

_Come on, kill me! End my misery!_

She froze, listening for the strange sounds to reappear. The two other creatures forgotten, she lifted her foot and lowered her face until it was inches from the prey-thing's body. The only sound she detected was the thunder of its twin hearts and hot-flowing blood. The scent of its warm flesh sent sharp pangs of hunger through her chest. She must eat.

Her hand pressed the rasping creature against the floor, squeezing its arms together to make sure it couldn't throw fire like it had last time. She spread her jaw, drool dripping from her mandibles as her body secreted fluids to help break down the nutrients about to enter her mouth. Her inner jaws flexed, ready to grab the meat and pull it down her long throat.

_Forgive me Auran. It's all my fault._

An image flashed in her mind. A creature. A warrior. Born of shadow. Amber-eyed death. She felt the creature's emotions seep into her. Pride. Sorrow. Regret. She flinched as a strange consciousness overrode her instinctual need to feed.

_Yan!_

She hissed and clawed at her crest, the sensation growing stronger. It hurt. It was wrong. Kill it! She roared and turned her sights on the warm-blooded creature staring up at her. Poisonous. Kill it. Shred it!

_YAN!_

Ahandra's consciousness exploded to the surface, the serpent's instincts shattering for a moment, overwhelmed by the burst of intelligence and iron will. She stumbled, unused to such a large body. The electric glow of Harsan squirmed beneath her thundering steps. She thanked God she hadn't killed him. The transformation had gone too fast. She'd blacked out for a moment.

A high-pitched cry made her perk up. _Seinu. __**Food.**_

Her anger instantly evaporated the thought. She lurched forward. _Yan. Offspring. Mine. _She already felt herself losing control, her hunger searing into her very bones. Ahandra glanced down at the dead bodies. _**Food. **_

She recoiled at the thought. Yan, she wouldn't eat anyone, dead or alive.

Instead, she followed the echoing wails of her infant, the desperate cries a lifeline to her tattered sanity. Other voices, impressions, began to filter into her consciousness as the xashi poured onto the surface. Pain. Hunger. _Help me!_ She pushed them all aside, striding down the stairwells, desperately searching for her baby.

She quickly found him. He was guarded by creatures— _Yan! Auran and Ajenke. Auran and Ajenke. _Chjit, she needed to hurry. She could practically taste their flesh as she drew near, their nervous systems lit up like Christmas trees in her mind's eye. Every muscle fiber and organ glowed with incredible energy. Energy she needed. She'd grown too fast. Oh, God, the _hunger._

_Auran. _A sibilant hiss escaped her throat and Ajenke brought up her weapon, her shouts lighting up her throat and lungs.

"Go Auran! I can buy you time." He grabbed her shoulder before she could fire the first shoot. "What? What are you doing? Run!"

"Look."

Ajenke watched as the serpent queen crouched on all fours, dragging its tail across the floor as it slowly approached, a strange moan escaping its fangs. "What-what's it doing?"

"Take Seinu."

"Auran!"

He growled. "Take him! If anything happens, run and don't stop."

"Are you insane?!" Ajenke took the hiccupping infant and slowly backed down the hall. The queen hissed and she froze, her hearts stuck in her throat as he approached the rasping monster.

Auran stared at the thing that had been his mate. He'd never seen a serpent, a queen for that matter, submit itself to a yautja. It sunk its massive head even lower, the creature's belly nearly pressed against the floor. Trails of viscous drool dripped from its trembling jaws as it slid its head closer, practically frothing now that he was mere centimeters away. But still it did not strike.

He should be dead. But he wasn't.

Auran took a deep breath and, very slowly, rested his hand on the queen's smooth forehead. The instant his skin touched the dark green chitin, an electric shock jolted his arm and he convulsed in pain, collapsing to the floor.

When he came to, he was sprawled on the floor, the queen's eyeless face staring down at him. Her leering maw hovered over his chest, scythe-like mandibles grazing his body. He flinched as hot, acidic drool singed his exposed skin. She raised her massive head and hissed at something.

Auran craned his neck to look behind. Ajenke. "Forget what I said before," he whispered. "Don't move."

"Why?" Her terrified eyes were locked on the xashi.

"Because she'll come after you."

"Auran."

"What?"

"I _really_ hope you know what you're doing."

"Saa." He returned his attention the queen crouched over him, her tail curling his prone form. _I really hope I know what I'm doing too. _He braced himself as the queen's armored claws slid over his skin and grasped his chest, grimacing as an electric current seared through him, every muscle in his body going rigid with pain. _Chjit, why does it hurt?!_

_Auran. _

He froze. He could hear her. _Ahandra? _

_I need to tell you something._

_Ahandra, I'm sorry. Harsan tried to warn me. I didn't listen—_

_It's not your fault. You were protecting me. __**Kill it! **_

Auran felt Ahandra's consciousness flinch and she let out a pained groan.

_What's wrong?!_

_I-I'm… it's… hungry. Oh God, it's so hungry. I don't think I can do this much longer._

_I don't understand… you shouldn't be alive… I-I killed you._

_I know. I—_

Ahandra was suddenly gone, replaced with primeval intelligence that hungered for his flesh. Nausea filled Auran as the creature's endless hunger seized his mind, probing him for weaknesses.

_Ahandra?!_

_Aaaaaahhhh! __**Skeeeeer!**_

Auran howled as the queen threw herself back against the wall, her claws ripping through his flesh and tossing him aside. He scrambled to his feet, ducking as the creature's tail whipped through the air. She writhed, squealing in pain.

"Auran, what in the hells is going on? It was just sitting there, holding you and now it's in pain and—"

"It's Ahandra!"

"What?"

"The queen is Ahandra."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know, alright!"

Ajenke muttered a string of curses. "This is insane. You're insane. I'm insane for listening to you…"

The squealing subsided as the queen collapsed to the floor, ragged groans filling the long corridor. Auran ignored Ajenke's hissed warning and slowly approached, his empty fingers instinctively flexing for his darkblade. His breath came in labored gasps and he looked down to see the jagged cuts splitting his chest. Distracted, he flinched as the queen suddenly lunged, a bony hand grabbing his legs and dragging him towards her gaping maw.

"Auran!" Ajenke cried out.

_Auran! Listen!_

_By the God's Sword, I thought you were going to eat me!_

…_I almost did. I'm… its hungry. Auran, I need you to listen to everything I tell you. _

Foreign memories of a warm beach and a priest flickered through Auran's mind.

_I am the starborn. There's no time to explain how or why I know that, just know that in order to save Kuuroch, I had to become a queen._

_Starborn? I don't understand. _More memories appeared, most a jumble of emotions and faces. Others were very clear. Mutated children trapped in vats. Asharah and Gaidulus interrogating her. _Are these your dreams?_

_It's complicated. What's important is that I can lure the xashi away from Kuuroch. _

_Where? _

_To N'tharralis. Natharrak planted bombs in the heart of the city. They're going to detonate soon. Hopefully, they will be strong enough to destroy them all. If not, the Thousand Towers are right above the underground city. If the support structures collapse, the center of Kuuroch will sink into the earth._

Ahandra's gnawing hunger seeped into bones and his stomach clenched in pain.

_Make sure the Shan hears this._

_He's dead. _The image of Shaidra appeared before his mind's eye, broken and bloody, and shame filled Auran. There'd been no honor in their battle. _Ajenke's the Shan'ra now. _

Her surprise sent an agonizing jolt through his limb and chest.

_Ennnghh!_

_I'm sorry! Are you alright?_

_I think… I think my chest is going numb._

Silence filled the dark void between them, unspoken words hanging in the air. Auran tried to find the words he'd wanted to say, but his mate beat him to it.

_Auran, before I go, I want to tell you how I feel, so you'll never have to wonder._

Heat flared through his arm, coursing through his veins and hearts until Ahandra's memories flooded his thoughts.

_The first time we met. _An alien sunrise. Three warriors with serrated armor and wicked blades. The pain as he'd grabbed her arm. His disapproving gaze from across the ship when he'd found her out of her room.

_The ceremony. _Her fear as she considered her future. Was she beautiful? Did it matter? The slice of the blade across her palm and his rough hand being tied to hers as their blood burned in a copper basin.

_The sha'oul. _Her desperation to escape. The fear and despair as he approached her, naked and stiff, his strong arms pressing her against the bed. Her trembling acceptance as she lay beneath him, holding her breath as his rod slid between her thighs and inside her, reminding herself of the reasons for sacrificing her humanity each time the pain became unbearable.

_When you saved me from Tchath'ka. _The thunder of the nightmarish club as Jaul dragged her down the cramped hallways. Tchath'ka's leering face hovering over her, his breath foul as his mandibles brushed against the side of her face. He grabbed her jaw, raising the dagger, ready to plunge it into her eye socket. His head exploding in a shower of gore. Then Auran was there, holding her, shielding her.

The memories poured into him, an unstoppable torrent of sorrow, fear, confusion and hope.

_The day I realized I loved you. _Auran gasped and arched as molten heat poured into his body. He felt it, her joy when she turned around and saw that he wasn't dead. He was alive. And he cared about her. They'd mated and for the first time she'd felt pleasure in his embrace.

_I missed you so much. _He'd been gone for an entire cycle, but she counted on him returning. To keep his promise.

_Seinu's birth._ She cried out in pain as her contractions strengthened, explosions ripping through the air as the Thousand Blades invaded the Midnight Blossom. The final agonizing push. Her joy at his warbling mewls and seeing him for the first time.

_I know you'll be a good father. _

The golden warmth drained from Auran, his skull pounding with each throb of his aching hearts. He couldn't speak. He couldn't find the words. Instead, he ripped the silver necklace from his belt with his free hand and looped it around her fingers. _Your necklace. I took it. Ahandra, I-I can't. I can't do this. I can't let you go. _

_Sa'era Auran._

The link was suddenly severed and Auran fell back against the cool floor, too weak to move as Ahandra rose above him and slipped away. Ajenke was suddenly by his side, shaking him. "Auran? Auran?! You better tell what the fak'sha sjauk'rin she'shai was going on!"

"Ahandra… she's going to lure the xashi into the Tunnels. To N'tharralis."

"This is utter insanity!"

"He's not insane," Harsan limped down the stairs, groaning and clutching his side.

"What?!"

"I heard her, when the queen touched me. Just for a moment. But I knew it was her. I've felt Ahandra's mind touch before."

"You need to evacuate the central city," Auran groaned as he stood. "If N'tharralis falls, so will the Thousand Towers."

"Oh, so I just announce that I'm the shan'ra and a dead thras'ka transformed into a serpent queen and mind spoke to a Shadow Stalker about a plot to blow up the Star Tower." She snorted. "Nobody will believe me!"

Thet's voice suddenly piped up. _"I believe you."_

Everyone stared Ajenke's midriff. "Thet?"

"_Shaidra planted a comm link on you so I could stay in touch with you. Without it, I would have been very skeptical of your claims. There were some technical issues with the device, but everything appears to be working normally again. I'm sending my guards to escort you to the command center."_

Harsan grunted. "The Shan was smarter than I gave him credit for."

"_What are your orders, shan'ra?"_

Ajenke glanced between the two males. Eyes wide, she swallowed and said, "Evacuate the center of the city and..." she cleared her throat, mustering up the most imperious voice she could. "No one may shoot the xashi queen. To do so will be considered treason."

"_As you wish."_

As soon as Thet signed off, Auran's wrist computer flashed to life.

"_Hey, Auran… I know you said stay in the docking bay buuut—"_

"_Like I'm letting you have all the glory, you sonuvabitch!"_

"I'aquin."

"_Tell me where you are so I can _kill_ you."_

"Just below the Star Court." He grunted in pain as he lowered himself back to the ground. His blood loss was beginning to catch up to him. "You better hurry. I'm bleeding a lot." He could hear I'aquin berating Hetarrak to hurry up before the signal cut off.

Ajenke huffed as she sat down beside him, Seinu squirming in her lap. She adjusted the grumpy infant, looking over at Auran. He was covered in blood and looked as if he'd aged a decade. She wondered what she looked like. "Lak'shura."

He glanced over at her then continued to stare at the cracked stone floor. He didn't respond when she tried to offer him Seinu and she hoisted the mewling infant over her shoulder, patting his back, wishing there was something she could do other than sit here and hope.

* * *

**'/- |/- ,-;** **\',**

* * *

Ahandra tore through the tower, her long legs easily carrying her down the spiraling staircase. She was at the bottom in minutes, sprinting through the arching entryway. Rain pelted her chitin skin and lightning crashed across the smoke-choked sky as she slid to a stop, the glowing city spread out before her.

She raised her head and let out a piercing shriek that echoed across the entire city.

The xashi's response was almost instantaneous. _**Mother. **_The knowledge spread like wildfire through the hive. They had a queen. And she had summoned them. Their collective consciousness nearly drowned her own as their thoughts and needs poured in. She now saw the city, hot and glowing with energy, the memories of the xashi pooling together to create a living map of surrounding area. Ahandra in turn, searched through their minds, seeking a way underground. She found it and rushed forward, crying out for her children to follow. _Down. Hide. Safe._

As she surged forward, her children converged, a dark tide of writhing monstrosities. She flinched as a tidal wave of hunger smashed into her and her children cried out, sensing her pain. But she pushed forward. Not safe. Need to get away. N'tharralis. She pulled up the image of the underground city. _Nest._

The xashi now had a purpose and they swarmed, pouring through the grates and hidden passages that led into the Tunnels, ignoring the hail of gun blasts and terrified howls that followed them. They swept through the gloom, at one with the eternal twilight, the hundreds of tunnels flowing before the horde as their clicks and shrieks echoed through the passages, bouncing back to provide a perfect view of what lay ahead.

Ahandra gave into instinct as she ran forward, the thought of somehow crushing one of her children unbearable. They wove around her feet like a dark mist, confident now that she was there to guide them.

Raienthril's screams shocked her back to the surface and she sensed his awful death as the xashi tore through him once they reached the center of the dead city. They dragged his carcass to her, proud of their kill. The older ones brushed around her legs like cats, insisting she eat with warbling hisses. Ahandra couldn't stop herself and inwardly sobbed as she tore into the fresh kill, the warm blood soothing her dry throat. Once her inner jaw had ground him up, it pulled the pieces of Raienthril down her throat, bone and all. But it wasn't enough.

_Yan! _

Her children flinched, but continued with their work, albeit cautiously. She was upset. They wanted to please her. She sensed some start to work harder, especially the xashi that were small.

_Oh God, those are children, _she yautja pups, warped and twisted, skittered through the adults' legs as they played and cleared the ground of debris.

The nesting area slowly began to coalesce, fleshy webs consuming the stone walls as bacteria secreted from special pouches in the xashi's jaws accelerated the nightmarish growths, consuming any waste left behind and converting it into warmth.

Ahandra stood amongst the xashi, waiting for the end. She could sense where the bombs were with each one they found, all placed strategically throughout the crumbling city. The countdown was quickly nearing the zero mark and she settled on the ground, letting her children groom her and clean her wounds.

Strange voices cried out, jarring her from her apathy. They were at odds with the singlemindedness of the hive and the xashi lashed out at the pariahs, killing the ones that fought back.

She concentrated on the chaotic voices, a new purpose seized her. Ahandra rose and began hissing orders to the older xashi in charge.

There wasn't much time.

* * *

**-|' /- '|/- -,' **

* * *

Thousands fled the center of the city as the xashi converged on the central towers. Reports soon flooded into the command center from air patrols that all traces of the serpents had disappeared from the surface. The crimson light of the hologram shadowed Ajenke's face as she stared at the outline of Kuuroch, unable to process the devastation. But it could have been so much worse. The xashi had just started their killing spree when Ahandra had called them away.

A strange tremor caught her eye and the hologram flickered. Rumbles spread amongst the warriors as their instruments glitched. All were on edge. Most systems could survive an electromagnetic pulse, but no one knew how powerful the bombs were.

She stared at the Star Tower, waiting for the inevitable.

The ground shivered and rolled, the earth rippling like water. Towers writhed and tumbled as the ground bubbled and split, the cascading explosions tossing earth and stone into the air, consuming the Thousand Towers and shattering their glistening crystals. Ajenke covered the sides of her head as a high-pitched shriek filled the air, the sound drowning out even the thunder. A concussive_ whoosh_ slammed into the side of the building, knocking her into one her guards. She pulled away and grabbed the side of the table, watching as the center of the city collapsed back to the earth, swallowed by the gaping void that had opened up beneath it. Earth, metal, stone and water poured into the massive crater.

Ajenke bowed her head, pain searing the corner of her eyes. It was done. Her friend was dead.

* * *

**|/- -;- '|,**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Only two more to go :) I hate to leave you guys hanging, but alas, it must be done. I'll update as soon as I can.


	39. Anomaly

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Chenau'ek – **sheh-NAW-eck

**Orsu – **OAR-soo

**Sjura –** SJUU-rah

**Tharrak – **THAR-rack

**Uskenthsa – **OO-skenth-sah

* * *

**Anomaly**

* * *

Auran gasped and bolted upright, ripping his knife from his sheath. His glowing amber eyes darted around the chamber, hearts slamming against his ribcage as he searched the shadowed corners for his enemies. But the room was empty.

Auran tossed the knife onto the furs, shivering as the adrenaline slowly left his system, cool sweat dripping from every pore in his body.

Kicking his soaked furs aside, he swung his feet over the edge of the raised bed and gripped the wooden frame. The nightmare replayed over and over inside his head, the sound his mate screaming making him dig his claws deep into the soft pulp. There'd been… so much blood. Her blood. He couldn't kill her. Couldn't stop her from changing. Then the serpents…

He rubbed his face as pain flared around his eyes. Auran's bones ached and skin itched from the multitude of newly formed scabs. He still felt as exhausted as he had when he'd collapsed onto the bed. It'd been the first time he'd slept since he woke up in the makeshift med area— Auran glanced at his wrist computer laying on the ground— four days ago. Four _long_ days.

The stimulants had kept him going, allowing him to drift through the motions. Every so often he'd force himself to eat. Not that it mattered. He could barely keep most of it down anyway. He'd finally allowed himself to pass out when the hallucinations began.

Auran pushed off the bed and stumbled into the small cleansing room, snapping the nozzle on and bracing himself against the wall as the freezing water blasted him. He sucked in several deep breaths, letting the spray run over his face and shoulders until he was numb and lucid. Physical pain he could endure. It gave him focus. But this… losing her…

Auran growled and punched the wall, hissing as a sharp pain seared his knuckles. He grabbed his hand, watching as ghostly red streams of blood trickled down his fingers. He growled again, snapping the nozzle shut as he stepped out of the shower, not even bothering to dry himself off before he slipped on his armor. The scraps of metal and leather could hardly be considered armor, but he refused to wear the obsidian garb of the Shadow Stalkers and had locked the tainted gift in the chest in the corner of the room.

He kept his head down as he travelled the bustling halls. Warriors, messengers and administrative aides rushed to and from the central command center set up in the Sky Runners' guild tower. Through the rain-spattered windows, Auran spied one of the great forges, the pyramid belching thick smoke from its glowing maw as the last of the dead burned within their fiery tombs. Not even the raging storm outside could quench its molten furnaces.

The arbitrators though weren't interested in the dead so much as they were the living. Clan disputes beginning to flare up now that many of the larger clans' hold on power had been shaken. Clanless rogues, bands of young males and vengeful lesser clans, particularly those that had managed to escape the Tunnels, were squabbling for living space and territory. Rumor had spread amongst the people that the shan'ra was from the Tunnels, a slave or even the Mistress herself. Whatever the truth, it only served to embolden the underworlders. Auran wasn't interested in politics and had sought assignments that kept him near the center of the desolation, searching for survivors and treasured artifacts from amongst the rubble. But not today. He was too tired. Besides, he would never find what he was looking for anyway.

Auran flashed his security pass to a menacing looking guard and made his way into the inner nexus of the Kuuroch'ii government's transitional headquarters. He bypassed the council rooms and lounges, ignoring the judgmental stares he received. He'd killed the shan. It didn't matter that he hadn't been in his right mind. The honorable thing would've been to fall on his sword as blood payment for his crime. But he hadn't. And Ajenke was protecting his son. To many, it was a bewildering decision.

The Djaidesh'erin guards allowed him to pass and he slipped inside the nursery chamber, nearly tripping over a couple pups as they chased each other, laughing and howling.

"Auran."

He looked up to see Sjura beckoning him into a side room, a small pup nestled against her breast. Auran followed, cautiously looking both ways before he entered.

Sjura had been a friend to Ahandra, only a few weeks farther along in her own pregnancy. When she'd learned Seinu needed a nursemaid, she'd volunteered. He'd checked on his son every day once he was released by the healers.

Sjura sat down with her companion at a small table at the far end, adjusting her suckling infant when he began to chirp. Auran ignored the other female's concerned side glances as he crouched over Seinu, watching as his son wriggled and kicked atop his fur pallet on the floor. He'd managed to grab a stuffed animal and rewarded himself by cramming the toy between his mandibles and gnawing on it, drool soaking into the xora's flimsy wings. Seinu stared up at him, burbling and grunting as he continued to suck on his toy. Auran noted that his yellow irises were slowly darkening. They would be orange, he realized, just like…

_Ahandra's_. He made himself finish the sentence as he stared into his son's large eyes. Seinu cooed and tossed his now "dead" prey aside, fascinated by Auran's swaying dreadlocks. He reached his pudgy arms up, stubby fingers batting the rubbery things around as he tried to grab hold. Auran's hearts nearly burst when his son's mandibles pulled back in crooked grin when he finally managed to capture one. He was jarred from his serenity with a surprisingly sharp tug and he quickly pried Seinu's tiny fingers from his tendril, huffing a soft growl. His son, completely ignorant of the fact that he was no match for his father, continued his battle with the tantalizing new toy, the rubbery tendrils just out of reach, letting out several growling squeaks after a minute of fruitless effort. Auran distracted him with a squishy ring that changed temperatures.

He turned as shouts sounded from the hall outside, subconsciously fingering the hilt of his sword even though he smelt no danger.

Hetarrak soon came lumbering to the doorway, covered in pups. They laughed and shrieked, doing their best to bring him down. "Ow! Hey, no biting, Raika!" Hetarrak looked down at a male pup clinging to his left shin and growled playfully. The female hitching a ride on his back covered his eyes with one of her arms, urging her companions hanging on his arms to pull him down. "Gah! Can't… breathe." Hetarrak wobbled, stumbling left and right, the children giggling and shrieking with each sway. "Feeling… dizzy. Too… strong." Very slowly, with dramatic gasps thrown in for good measure, Hetarrak slumped to the ground, the pups peeling off of him and cheering at their success.

"Aha!" The pups shrieked and scattered as Hetarrak bolted upright and grabbed at them, pinching the ones too slow to escape.

Auran watched Seinu, wide-eyed and excited, try to lift his head to see what going on. He trilled and grabbed at the stuffed xora again, biting and clawing at it for good measure.

Hetarrak groaned as he stood, examining his arms. "Hrathka's a clawer."

Auran stood as well, grunting at the glittering scratches crisscrossing his friend's left arm. They wouldn't even leave scars. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too."

Seinu started warbling, irritated clicks punctuating each soft cry. Auran stared down at him, suddenly at a loss and looked over to Sjura, who was currently burping her own pup. She handed off the sleepy infant to her friend and softly padded over to Seinu, who only began to chirp louder now that she was in view.

Auran and Hetarrak might as well have been invisible as Sjura slipped off one of her sleeves and pressed Seinu against her breast, his cries instantly morphing into greedy slurping. She looked up and laughed softly and Auran searched for the object of her amusement, chuffing when he saw Hetarrak. His eyes were glued to her exposed breast, his mandibles slowly going slack.

"Hetarrak."

The young male flinched and averted his gaze, his face turning bright yellow. "I… uh, Auran… you and I… need to go… supposed to tell you something," he mumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck and slowly backed away. Hetarrak tried to quickly turn and duck out of the room. Instead, he smashed into the door frame.

Auran sighed as he watched his friend stumble out of sight, a group of pups clamoring after him, and turned back to Sjura. "My apologies. He's not very experienced with females."

More like not experienced at all. He avoided females, sticking with what he knew, which was ships and flying. Auran and I'aquin gave him a hard time about his height since he was shorter than most males, but they both knew there was something else that held Hetarrak back when it came to pursuing females. Scars most likely inflicted by his father, the ruthless leader of the Thunder Slayers.

She shook her head and laughed. "That's alright. I find that sort of innocent lust refreshing. Most males that came to the Midnight Blossom were… brazen in their desires."

"That's a polite way of putting it."

"Saa, I suppose you understand. You were a shield bearer after all." Her expression softened as he stared down at his son. "I wish more males were like you and Hetarrak. You're gentle with the pups."

Auran shifted uncomfortably and hardened his gaze as he looked away. "Hetarrak doesn't come to play with the pups."

Her smile morphed into a puzzled look and she cocked her head to the side.

He didn't finish the thought. "He won't be back for a few days. His pride will need to heal."

"Naturally—"

"Don't encourage him."

Her smile faded. "What? I don't understand."

Auran rumbled, inwardly berating himself for his lack of control. "Nothing. I'll be back tomorrow." He stalked out of the room, Hetarrak stumbling in his wake as he strode from the nursery.

"Hey, slow down! What happened?" Hetarrak grunted as he ran into Auran's muscled back.

Auran turned around and crossed his arms. "Why are you looking for me?"

"Uhh…"

Auran growled.

"Oh! I got us a scouting mission."

Auran took the hologram from Hetarrak's wrist computer and inserted the file into his own. He quickly scanned the report. "This isn't from the headquarter listings," he rumbled, his curiosity piqued.

"Saa, I'aquin said it was top secret. He heard about it from Thet. It was really weird... He slept with her but he sounded angry about it. Then she walked in on us and he started arguing with her and then he threw her on the table and, well… um… you know…"

Auran raised an eyebrow. "You watched them?"

"Yan, I left! But at first I was kind of surprised. I thought he was going to hurt her because I thought they hated each other. Don't they hate each other?"

Auran grunted and began walking again, Hetarrak pestering him for answers as they headed to the docking bay. Patience already worn thin, he decided answering Hetarrak was better than keeping his promise. "If you tell me what it is we're going after, I'll tell you about I'aquin and Thet."

Hetarrak grinned, pleased that for once Auran had given in. Auran tried to keep a few steps away from his enthusiastic friend since he tended to talk with his hands. It was alarming if you weren't prepared for your personal space to be invaded by wide gestures.

"A couple days ago, a patrol ship detected an anomaly outside of Kuuroch's borders. They didn't have clearance to penetrate the neutral territory so they had to turn back. They're still running the data, but I'aquin said the issue's being complicated by the Chenau'ek. Of course, I asked why they care and I'aquin looked at me like I was stupid and told me to shut up and listen."

_You do tend to talk before you think, Hetarrak, _thought Auran as they stepped into the empty lift. He tensed as his friend clapped a hand on his shoulder and took a step closer. It took every ounce of his self-control not to growl.

"Then he told me about the shan'ra, the female we found you with in the Star Tower. Turns out the shan of Chenau'ek is trying to propose a temporary alliance by bonding with her. He wants to send a joint force of the two city-states' warriors to examine the anomaly. I'aquin said Thet is frustrated because she thinks the Chenau'ek should be included because of the treaty agreement reached after the war several decades ago. It would a great insult if we breached the neutral zone between the territories without including our ally. Ajenke however, is worried that by agreeing to this, Tharrak— that's the shan— will take that as a sign that she is interested in his proposal, even though he hasn't officially approached her." Hetarrak paused when they entered the loading bay, excusing himself to check on their ship.

Auran's head ached from his friend's incessant chatter and the thunder of the trade ships. He strapped himself, resting while he waited for Hetarrak to finish procedure. A few moments later, his friend bounced into his seat and began flicking and tapping the controls, not even bothering to look at the A.I. readings that scrolled across the screen. Once the ship was free of the magnetic restraints, he picked up right where he'd left off.

"And that's when Uskenthsa's shan Orsu became interested and now he wants to send warriors to check on the anomaly. 'So with bureaucracy working at its hardest to make a simple problem more complex, Kuuroch is going to send an elite agent to look into the problem.' That's what I'aquin said at least, and then—"

"Wait, if they're sending an elite warrior, then why are we…" Auran growled, the answer strikingly obvious. He'd just been promoted without being told. "That bastard. Is this even sanctioned?"

Hetarrak kept one eye on the sky as they pulled away from the center of the city, shrugging. "When I asked, he said Thet told him he was forbidden to tell anyone, but that she said that on purpose so she could later claim immunity if any of this backfired. Basically, she wouldn't have told him about the situation if she didn't want his help… I think."

"What does Ajenke know about this?"

Hetarrak shrugged. "Her name never came up."

"Thet's protecting her then."

"Is Ajenke even the shan'ra?

"Technically, she's not. However, Thet insists everyone treat her as such until she's ready to handle the responsibilities, which won't be for a few years."

"How come Thet doesn't take over?"

Auran shook his head. "A coup would only create more chaos, plus she does not have blood right and it might give the High Clan an excuse to interfere directly. Although some would argue that if the shan'ra plans on adopting the clan name Midnight Swords and those who used to work at the Midnight Blossom, then she forfeits her blood right."

"At least Chenau'ek and Uskenthsa want to help. All I hear about the High Clan is denouncements and threats of an inquisition."

Auran snorted. "All they ever do is threaten. They'd never actually do anything unless the Grand Council was unanimous and that will never happen."

"Oh… I thought you said you didn't pay attention to politics?"

"I don't, but somehow I keep getting dragged into them."

They fell into silence as the sprawling city gave way to dense forests and rolling hills, Hetarrak dipping the craft below the canopy, keeping its underbelly close to the flushed river. They followed the waterway for some time, the vessel flashing a warning as they approach the neutral zone. Hetarrak silenced the alarm and pulled the craft just above the trees, banking slightly north towards the distant mountains.

"So are you going to tell me about I'aquin and Thet?"

"There's not much to tell. I'aquin was courting Poison Blades females and chose one from amongst them. He offended Thet, but whether it was because he didn't choose her or some other reason, he never said. Regardless, Thet created a poison that nearly killed him. She sent the antidote at the last second. Out of spite, he bonded with her half-sister."

After waiting for more, Hetarrak grunted. "You're a terrible story teller, Auran."

"Just land the damn ship."

Hetarrak chuckled and reversed thrusters, gently landing the sleek craft on a wide swath of exposed sand nestled beside the river. Auran slipped on his mask and ducked outside, Hetarrak on his heels, plasma rifle in hand.

The rains had moved off to the east, but the sky remained an angry violet. Lightning flickered in the distance and thunder rolled across the land like the footsteps of some primeval god. Eerie howls echoed from within the lush jungle, the soaring trees blanketed by a thick gray mist.

Hetarrak swatted at a small swarm of insects angrily buzzing about his head, muttering curses as they nipped at his skin.

Auran ignored him, taking a deep breath, a strange peace filling him. It had been a long time since he'd wandered freely. He slipped into the forest, wet pulp and moss squelching beneath his sandals. The canopy was shrouded in mist, but Auran switched on his mask, optimizing his infrared sights to cut through the gloom and giant ferns that clustered around fallen logs and mossy boulders, fighting for what little sunlight trickled down from above. He broke into a jog, barking for Hetarrak to keep up. The sigil marking the anomaly winked in the distance and after several kliks he slowed.

"We're not there yet," said Hetarrak, eager see what all the fuss was about.

"We may not be the only ones who decided to send an independent scouting party. We need to—"

"It's a race then!" Hetarrak whooped and sprinted ahead, leaping over twisting roots and disappearing from sight.

Auran stared after him in disbelief. He walked, unwilling to play Hetarrak's childish game. A surprised shout filled the air and Auran after him.

"_Auran! Don't run after me!" _Hetarrak shouted through the comm.

Auran skidded to a stop just in time. He crept forward, the mist parting to reveal a dark pit several spans wide. Hetarrak dangled from the ledge, clinging to a vine he'd managed to grab right before he'd fallen. He pulled himself up, brushing the mud off his armor as he turned to look down into the gaping mouth of the cave. "Damn that was close." He started to laugh, quickly coughing and averting his eyes to the ground when Auran growled at him.

"Just what in the hells were you thinking?"

"I dunno… everyone's just so serious lately. I thought, maybe… doesn't matter." Hetarrak lowered his head in shame.

Auran growled and pulled up the report, scrutinizing the streams of data surrounding the map. He slid a claw across a deep groove and the image disappeared. "The anomaly's inside the pit. We're going in." He loomed over Hetarrak, cutting him off before he could speak. "You will follow my lead, do you understand?"

Hetarrak wilted, nodding when Auran growled again. He grabbed a vine, slowly climbing down after Auran, biting his tongue as they slid into the yawning blackness. He hated the dark.

Auran slipped into the knee-high water silently, his shoulder cannon primed. Hetarrak let go of his vine and landed with a large splash, dousing Auran. "Ah! Cold cold cold." He noticed Auran's stabbing glare and instantly quieted. He kept his head down and slipped his rifle from his back, sweeping the darkness for any signs of life. Surprisingly little light filtered down from the forest above. But it was enough. Hetarrak whispered what Auran was thinking. "What is that?"

In the center of the dark pit rose a large, obsidian sphere that blended with the cool gloom, visible only when viewed against the backdrop of the glowing cave's mouth. Fibrous growths rooted it to floor and were Auran on any other world he would've thought it an exotic plant. But the segmented grooves and hardened resin made his hackles rise and he growled softly. Hetarrak tensed but continued to approach it, more curious than afraid.

"Hetarrak," Auran hissed.

"It's alright. I'm getting a better look. There's a faint heat bloom in the center that I didn't see in the ultraviolet scan."

"We know what it is. It's an egg. We need to destroy it." Auran's plasma cannon hummed to life and his tri-lasers focused on the center of the sphere. Hate pumped through him at the sight of the disgusting creation. Ahandra had sacrificed herself to save Kuuroch. He would not let her death be in vain. "Hetarrak, get away!"

Too late, the young yautja poked the sphere with his rifle, sticky strands of resin trailing from the tip. He backed away, freezing when a soft sucking sound echoed in the darkness. "Uh-oh…"

Seams appeared down the sides of the sphere and the top of the black polyp began to open, its black lips curling back. With a sickening slurp, the orb split, eight leathery petals blossoming open. Milky white ooze gushed out and the two yautja backpedaled as the tainted secretion dissipated into the inky water. They watched, transfixed as smaller petals peeled back from the soft, white center of the nightmarish flower. Within its ghostly white maw, something stirred.

Auran drew his darkblade and slowly waded forward. Hetarrak hung back, anxiously scanning the walls for any sign of the egg's guardians. His resolve to kill the abomination grew with each step, disgust shivering through him as his foot sunk into the soft inner wall of the sphere. He paused as he stood over the shifting creature, still trapped within a viscous white sac, scanning it in infrared as Hetarrak had done. The odd reading made him pause . The egg had only been visible in the ultraviolet. But its spawn glowed with life heat. It almost looked like… Auran growled and slashed his sword across the top of the sac. It snapped apart and he raised his sword over his head, gathering his strength for the killing blow in case it attacked.

He froze as a gasping mewl pierced the air and a pair of orange eyes turned to look up at him from within the pale ooze.

Hetarrak stepped forward when Auran lowered his blade, confusion in his voice. "What? What is it?" He rushed forward when Auran fell to his knees, leaping up onto one of the rubbery petals. "Auran— Oh chjit, what is that!?"

Auran snarled and lunged, grabbing the end of Hetarrak's rifle as he aimed it the center of the orb.

"What are you doing?!"

"Hetarrak." Auran's growl rose from deep within his gut. "I will _kill_ you if you move." His tri-lasers focused on the center of his friend's masked forehead for emphasis. "When I let go, lower the gun. And _back off_."

The young yautja did as he was told, shoulders hunched in anger and fear as he waded back into the dark water.

Hearts slamming against his ribcage, Auran crept around the center, keeping Hetarrak in view as he plunged his arms into the milky resin and pulled.

The female coughed and mewled as she was drug from the warmth of the sac, twisting in his arms. Auran pulled her against his chest, wiping away the oozing fluid covering her face and arms. "Ahandra, Ahandra," he called her name, unable to believe his eyes. He'd either gone mad or he was dreaming and he looked up at Hetarrak to know which it was.

Hetarrak barked in surprise. "God's Sword, Auran… I swear if I'd known I wouldn't have…" He trailed off, at a loss for words.

Auran choked back the rising tide of emotion as he gazed down at his mate's face, running his hands through her tendrils. "Ahandra. Ahandra look at me."

She stared at up him, recognition suddenly lighting her eyes. "Auran…?"

He laid her down, trembling as he peeled off the white tubes and film that clung to her body. "What happened? Why didn't you tell me? You said you couldn't change, you said…"

Her brow furrowed. "I… I don't remember."

He chuffed, caressing her face as she tried to apologize. "It doesn't matter." He pulled off his mask and pressed her against him, breathing in her scent. He couldn't hold back and he kissed her, long and hard, drawing back long enough to whisper, "Sa'era," before wrapping his arms around her, his hearts thundering in joy.

Ahandra clung to him, relieved that the nightmarish ordeal was over. She opened her eyes, tensing when she noticed black shapes encircling the pit. She focused on the largest and it flinched, drawing back from the lip of the cave. One by one, the shadows vanished and Ahandra breathed a sigh of relief as she nuzzled her face against her mate's neck.

She was yautja again and her family was safe. That was all that mattered.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Only one more chapter to go! I can't believe it :) It will be my first attempt at smut, so bear with me. (For those averse to smut, I will designate a way for you to skip the smexy section and still enjoy the epilogue.)

Thanks for reading!


	40. Secrets

**Author's Note:** If you want to skip the smut, the section will be marked off by **-|/,**.

**Pronunciation Guide:**

**Churande – **kuu-RAHN-day

**Djeth -** JEHTH

**Hefsa – **HEHF-sah

**i'tcheiku – **ee-CHEH-kuu – insult

**Orak – **OR-rak

**Raithra – **RAI-thrah

**seisa – **SAY-sah - father

* * *

**Secrets**

* * *

As usual, Ahandra found Zaiyra sequestered away in her favorite corner of the library, several data slates neatly stacked beside her. The young kai did not look up as she approached, engrossed in what appeared to be yet another sensuous love story. Ahandra raised an eyebrow as she leaned over Zaiyra's shoulder and skimmed a few paragraphs. She chuffed and Zaiyra flinched, clutching the data slate to her chest and whirling to see who had caught her. She heaved a huge sigh of relief when she saw it was Ahandra. "Oh thank the One. It's just you."

Ahandra pulled a chair over and sat, leaning an elbow on the table and cupping the side her face in her hand. "That was an interesting document you were… studying."

Zaiyra warbled nervously, stroking its frame with a slender claw. Its crimson glow dissolved and she set it on top of the other data slates, arranging the stack until it was perfect. "You caught me. Again."

Ahandra's top mandibles pulled back in a sympathetic smile. "You still haven't talked to him?"

The young kai sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. "Yan. I just don't know how to broach the subject with Gaidulus. We're either in council meetings, prayers, teaching the acolytes or catching up on our administrative 'duties'… I despise that word now. He says is _so_ much. It creates this instant barrier between us and I can't seem find a way through without the topic appearing, at best, bizarre."

"Well, have you tried?"

"I've tried everything I can think of. Suggesting we share the same room, offering to massage his neck when he's tired, talking about other couples… dressing provocatively."

Ahandra chuffed and sat up. "What did you wear?"

Zaiyra flushed and looked away. "It was just once. I wore a deep-slitted sarong and ribboned sleeves… and that's it."

"You're joking!?"

"I had on a lot of necklaces to cover my chest!"

Ahandra laughed as Zaiyra's face burned white against her glowing orange skin. "I'm sorry, but I can only imagine Gaidulus' face. What did he do when he saw you?"

The young kai glared at the table and crossed her arms. "Nothing. I thought maybe he might say something at one point but then he just said 'I'm going to meditate' and left. That's another word I despise. 'Meditate.'" She growled softly.

Ahandra drew her mandibles together, guilt tugging on her heartstrings. Zaiyra had only been 14 at the time she was bonded to Gaidulus, who was nearly two decades her senior. Ahandra had opposed the bonding on the grounds that Zaiyra was too young. But without a vision to justify her fears, she had little real authority on the matter. The young kai had accepted Asharah and Firak's goal of uniting the ka'ii and restoring the Ashann'ii religion, and had poured her heart and soul into restoring the city.

Despite the age difference, the ka'ii were perfectly suited to each other in every way… except one. Their platonic relationship had once brought the younger Zaiyra a sense of security. Now it was now a source of constant frustration. Gaidulus would not touch her, believing their bond to be purely spiritual, a symbol of harmony for the rest of Kuuroch to model and Zaiyra despaired of ever breaking through her mate's iron will. "Have you considered being straightforward about your feelings? I know he's the kai, but he's also male. They can be quite oblivious to female subtlety, even if we feel like we've given them more than enough hints. Sometimes it's best to look them directly in the eyes and speak plainly."

"I've wanted to, Ahandra. So many times." Her emerald eyes lit up and she sat a little straighter. "Especially when we're going over scripture together or having a passionate debate and he's so close I can feel his warmth radiating over my skin and then…" She sighed and slumped back against her chair. "And then I make up an excuse and leave."

"You're afraid he'll reject you?"

She nodded and Ahandra's heart twinged at the despair furrowing her beautiful face. She reached forward and placed her hand on top of the young female's clasped fingers, gently rubbing her thumb over them. "I know it's scary, but try and be honest and up front with him. Don't pressure or judge, simply explain your feelings. If he cares about you as much as you've told me then he'll listen."

"Or meditate on it," Zaiyra muttered.

They both burst out laughing, clamping their hands over their mouths to keep from disturbing anyone else nearby. When their chortles finally faded, Zaiyra sighed. "I know you're right. And the One forbid I spend another five years wrestling with this."

"Do you, um, have ways to relieve yourself?"

Zaiyra blushed as she shook her head. "I've tried but I just feel guilty afterwards. Besides, stimulating myself seems to make me want him more. You have no idea how many showers I've taken to wash away my musk. It's embarrassing."

"So don't."

"Don't what?"

"Wash it away. If he can't be around you without having to confront your scent, it may make it an easier case when you discuss your needs with him."

"Perhaps." Zaiyra's brow furrowed and she pressed her knuckles against her chin as she considered her options. Maybe there was hope after all. "Ak'nandei, you always look out for me. You're like the big sister I never had. I was the oldest of my… of the acolytes."

Ahandra managed a strained smile. Memories of her family, warped and distorted by years of seeing through infrared, flickered past, her little sister Sonya standing out from the rest. Dr. Megumi Nakayama had sent her a message about her family when the Kuuroch'ii high council had finally investigated what had happened on Earth several weeks after the attack by the Shadow Stalkers and the Hish. The secret Weyland facilities had been decimated and dozens of staff members slaughtered or missing. But bits and pieces of the research had managed to survive, enough to revolutionize medicine, she'd said. Naka also reported that her sister was now walking and running and she dreamed of being a military pilot or astronaut. Weyland Industries would continue to watch over the Vasquez family, she wrote, for many generations. Ahandra had sent a message back, thanking her friend. She'd attached her dog tags to the short note, asking her to give it to her sister Sonya. With that final act, she'd been at peace, finally able to let go of her old life. Now, after decade on this world, Earth felt like a faraway dream.

"Ahandra, are you all right? Are you having a vision?"

She pulled herself from her reverie, fiddling with her long tendrils and huffing in embarrassment at Zaiyra's concern. "Yan, I'm fine."

The young kai didn't look convinced but her bracelet began flashing and Ahandra's preoccupation was forgotten. She frowned, tapping at the thing until it quit chirping. "I have to go. I have a meeting with some district priests."

"You sound irritated."

She growled as she gathered up her data slates. "They keep insisting on the segregation of males and females. Worse, they are continually bickering amongst themselves about which blood rites are sanctioned by scripture. E'lonyi and Gorn actually had a brawl in a temple! These are respected elders, thrice my age. You would think they would know better."

Ahandra snorted. "Sound like my sons. If Auran or Harsan isn't there, they run wild. Ajenke and Rrourk are lucky they have two daughters."

Zaiyra laid a hand on her shoulder as she walked past and Ahandra squeezed it. "I'll see you soon?"

"Saa." Ahandra listened to her friend's fading footsteps. Although she wished it differently, her attachment to the kai was motivated by more than just affection. Lately, one vision had begun to stand apart from the others. A serpent from the east would fall on Zaiyra and bite her, causing the temple of Kuuroch to split in two. She hadn't shared this particular dream with anyone yet. There were too many unknowns. Until she fully understood her vision, it was pointless to burden the ka'ii or the temple council until she could provide a direction for them to focus. The one thing she was certain of was that the darkness from the east was no doubt a part of the High Clan's plan to undermine Kuuroch.

**-|/,**

She sighed and rubbed her temples as her head began to throb. There was no point in giving herself a migraine at this point. The dreams occurred far enough apart that whatever was going to happen remained years away, plenty of time to change the future or, at the very least, mitigate the damage. Ahandra distracted herself from the issue as she rose to leave by going over the possible meals she could make for her family tonight when hand clamped over her mandibles and a blade pressed against her throat. She grabbed the muscled forearms, a low growl silencing her muffled cries. Her hearts raced as the assassin's muscled chest and hips pressed against her, his distorted voice reverberating through her body. "Don't move, seer." He took a step back, hand still clamped against her mouth, pain lancing through her as his knife dug into her soft skin of her back. A steady low rumble filled the air and her skin prickled in fear.

But confusion quickly replaced terror as a familiar smell filled her mouth. She took several deep breaths, her brow furrowing. He smelled like Auran. But her mate had never done anything like this before. A rattling hiss scattered her thoughts. "Strip."

Ahandra remained still, unsure whether to trust her sense of smell or not. For all she knew, the assassin could be pretending to be Auran, mimicking his scent. She tensed, a muffled gasp escaping through his fingers as the knife dug into her back and he pulled her closer, his mask brushing against her dreadlocks. "It's time to pay your debt," he hissed into her ear, the pressure on her spine disappearing as he drew back. _"Now strip."_

Ahandra knew she had two choices. Take her time and hope someone stumbled across them. Or the assassin could tear her clothes off and have his way no matter what.

Slowly, she let her shawl slip from her shoulders, the soft, red silk hissing as it pooled around her feet. Next came her sandals, but the assassin didn't let go of her mouth as she bent down. He press his armored groin against her bottom as she bent to unlace her sandals, doing little to hide his lust as he rubbed himself between her soft cheeks. He pulled back once she rose, her trembling fingers unhooking the straps wrapped around her neck. The assassin's grip around her mandibles tightened as she let the straps fall, the strips of fabric dangling from the tight cloth covering her breasts, still restrained by clasps around her back. He growled impatiently as she took her time, slowly unfastening each hook, holding her breath as the last one snapped loose and her top fell away.

Ahandra's nipples hardened as the cool air kissed them, her breasts swelling with each shaky breath. Auran's scent, a heady blend of ash and saffron, now permeated her throat and her nether regions instinctively reacted, heat flaring between her thighs. Her hands slid over her hips, grasping the two golden buckles holding up her long breech cloth. Warm juices were beginning to soak into the soft leather, bathing the air with her sweet musk. He growled when she hesitated and with two soft clicks the fabric crumpled to the ground. Her captor loosened his grip for moment, overwhelmed as her female scent filled the air. It was all the distraction she needed. Ahandra closed her eyes and concentrated on his hand, seeping her consciousness into his. He flinched at the mental contact and ripped his hand away, but it was too late.

"Auran, what are you doing?! I thought—" His knife pressed against her throat and he growled a warning. "Silence." She couldn't help trembling as she felt the tip of his knife slide between her heaving breasts, caressing her exposed stomach before pressing it against her groin. He twisted the blade flat and rubbed it over sex, his muscled thigh pushing between her legs to widen her stance. Auran's free arm wrapped around her, cupping her breast and twisting her hardened nipple. Ahandra remained absolutely still, sharp gasps slipping from her lungs as her swollen sex began to burn with pleasure, even as the common sense part of her brain told her a knife shouldn't be anywhere near her soft flesh. The flattened blade continued to gently rotate, never once cutting into her tender lips and slowly, she began to relax, settling against his hot, muscled chest. With a satisfied rumble, Auran lifted the blade away and sheathed it.

Ahandra sighed as his hands roamed her body, his claws grazing the soft, sensitive skin of her inner arms, running over her arms and shoulders before gently caressing her neck. He sunk his fingers into her tresses, gently squeezing them as his hands slipped down the long, rubbery strands until he reached her lower back. She groaned and leaned forward, palms pressed flat against the table as his thumbs kneaded her tense muscles. She wanted to be mad at him. But as he swept her tendrils away and ran his hands over back she decided she would yell at him later.

Ahandra gasped as the massage came to an abrupt end, Auran grabbing her hips and shoulder and shoving her against the table. She growled as he pushed her legs apart, his hardened length slipping between her thighs, searching for her entrance.

"Auran, what are you doing?" Her voice hitched as the tip of his swollen sex grazed her sensitive opening. "We're in the temple library," she hissed through clenched fangs. Auran ignored her, adjusting her to fit his stance. He pulled her hips towards him, a hand resting between her shoulder blades to hold her down. She struggled as he caressed her widening slit with gentle rotations, patiently waiting until she submitted.

The distortion was gone from his voice when he spoke again, a hand slipping around her hips as he leaned forward to whisper. "You remember your promise a few weeks ago?" Ahandra moaned softly as his two fingers began to gently rub her swollen clit in slow, torturous circles. She gasped sharply, knees trembling as he shoved the tip of his rod into her entrance. "Because you denied me, you said I could take you whenever I wanted. And I want you now."

Ahandra panted, moaning as his fingers rapidly rubbed her clit side to side. He pushed down harder and she squirmed, groaning as her futile struggles only pushed his swollen rod deeper inside her. "O-oh God, oh God, oh God… but A-Auran… someone, someone's going— ah!"

"Shh, they'll hear you. Don't worry, my mask sees everything. As long as you don't make any noise, no one will discover us… hopefully."

_Oh chjit, I can't do this! I can't keep quiet! Auran, you daka! _She groaned in pleasure as he shoved his hot shaft deep inside her, moaning when he slowly pulled out and sank back into her.

"Shh," Auran breathed as he pulled back again, pausing for a moment. "You might want to brace yourself."

Ahandra grabbed the edge of the table to anchor herself as the hand that had been holding her down entangled themselves in her tendrils, pulling her head and shoulders back, forcing her hips to arch even higher. The discomfort only heightened her arousal. She was completely subdued, at the mercy of his masculine power. Ahandra warbled in agony, willing him to fill her. With a rumble, he obliged.

She nearly severed her tongue as he slammed into her, his rapid thrusts nearly tearing her grip from the table. Warbles of ecstasy escaped her throat as his relentless barrage burned inside of her. Flames of molten heat engulfed her slit and seeped into her hips as warm juices caked her thighs. Her screams, trapped in her throat, morphed into guttural squeals as she fought the overwhelming tide of pleasure.

Ahandra's knees buckled and Auran slipped from her as she crumpled to the ground, hands still holding onto the ledge of the table. "I can't… I can't… too much."

Without a sound Auran, quickly scooped her up and laid her on the table face up, throwing her ankles over his shoulders. Ahandra instinctively grabbed the table again, unable to hold in a shriek of pleasure as his large rod shoved deep inside her, picking up right where he'd left off. She held onto the table for dear life, moaning and hissing with each rhythmic thrust. She gasped as ecstasy flashed across her skin, the burning tension instantly evaporating from every muscle in her body. Ahandra released her grip on the table, lost in a haze of pleasure, letting Auran have his way until he was finished.

Breathy, guttural grunts from within his mask signaled his approach and with several great heaves he spilled his hot seed, nearly collapsing on top of her as he came to a shuddering halt. Ahandra mewled as he pulled out, gently lifting her hips and legs and turning her so she could lay across the long table. He stood over her, admiring his handiwork as he leaned against the table, arms trembling as he fought to keep himself upright. She purred dreamily, eyes half-open as she stared into space. "Is my debt paid, assassin?"

Ahandra knew he was smirking beneath his mask. "Saa, even though I did all the work."

She smiled. She should get up and get dressed. _Nah, _Ahandra decided, too comfortable to move. Plus, she couldn't feel her legs.

**-|/,**

* * *

**'-/, -|\ ',-**

* * *

Auran caught her as she wobbled down the ships platform, a smug grin tugging at his mandibles as she shoved him away. "I'm still mad at you." She really was. But she would've been angrier if the sex hadn't been so good. She was still high from the endorphins buzzing through her system. "Next time you want to play 'assassin with a knife in the library', warn me, saa? I thought I was actually going to die for a moment."

"After you turned me down a few weeks ago, before I left, you said I could take you whenever and however I wanted—"

"Within reason! Imagine if someone had caught us." Ahandra huffed and crossed her arms, her hips cocked to the side. Auran's smug grin remained and before she could react, he stole a kiss, his mandibles quickly brushing over hers. Ahandra growled softly as he pulled her against him, heat flaring between her legs.

"Admit it," he rumbled, stroking his mandibles along the inner webbing of her mouth.

She warbled, the sensuous kiss leaving her lightheaded as he pulled away. "Never. If I admit that I enjoyed it, then you'd do it again."

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her as they headed towards their home. The tiered sandstone complex was nestled against the stony foothills of the northern mountain range and surrounded by acres of large trees and thick shrubs, affording them the luxury of privacy. Hidden inside the emerald forests ran clear creeks and bubbling waterfalls. Compared to the grimy ghettos she'd grown up in, this was paradise.

"You're right. We need to work on your stealth. I was certain your shriek echoed through the entire level."

Ahandra blushed as she recalled the moment, unable to come up with a good enough excuse without indirectly complimenting him. Instead she made a face at him, chirping when he reached behind and squeezed her bottom. She dashed inside the house, Auran giving her a head start before chasing after. He caught her in the courtyard, her shriek of laughter echoing through the house and into the open sky above as he dug his fingers into her ticklish inner thighs and underarms.

"Okay, okay, okay— Ah! Stop!" Laughing, Ahandra sank to the floor, her only defense against Auran's precise jabs. He finally relented, settling his hands on his hips as he stared down her curled up form. She continued to warble, her skin still tingling. Auran chuffed. "You wouldn't last a minute under torture. Too soft."

She rolled onto her back and gazed up at him, her eyes drawn to the jagged scars twisting along his hands and arms. He clenched his fists when he noticed her stares and stepped back to let her up. As Ahandra brushed herself off, she mentally berated herself for staring too long. Auran's secretive missions had been a sore spot in their relationship early on, but one she'd accepted to keep the peace. Her mate didn't talk about his missions. He never said where he was going and sometimes didn't know when he was coming back. Occasionally, he brought back fresh scars. She'd been a soldier. She understood what it meant to be deployed and be gone weeks or months at a time. But it was still hard.

Ahandra grabbed his hand and nuzzled his shoulder, her silent way of asking if they were okay. Auran grunted and bumped his forehead against hers, letting her know there was no offence taken and that she worried too much. He slapped her rear for good measure as she headed for the kitchen, enjoying her exasperated chitters.

Hefsa was already prepping the evening meal and grunted irritably when she noticed the pair enter the kitchen. Sunok, the youngest, clung to her long skirt, sleepily sucking his thumb until he noticed Ahandra. "Nana!" He chirped, waddling towards her with arms outstretched. She cooed as she picked him up, chittering softly to him as she settled him on her hip and began helping prepare the meal, despite Hefsa's insistence she had everything under control. The eldress' rumbling growl made Auran pause halfway across the kitchen. "Eyaaaa. No males in my kitchen. Your dirty hands will ruin the food. Yah! Away with you. Go find your other sons. The little firendi are in the woods. No doubt covered in mud."

Auran rolled his eyes and left, earning him another indignant tirade to send him on his way. The eldress had been his nursemaid and caregiver when he'd been a child and had kept him from mischief. Most of the time. She was crankier and fatter now, but she kept the pups in line when Harsan wasn't around. He wondered where his mentor was as he scanned the darkening woods, sniffing for any sign that they were nearby. He rumbled, displeased that his pups had wandered so far off. They knew the rule: they had to be back by the time Feiren had set. And Iren was already low in the sky. Auran took a deep breath and bellowed, his roar silencing the hoots and whistles of the birds and lizards for a moment.

A sharp yowl rose from the northern edge of his territory and Auran grunted, satisfied Seinu had acknowledged his call. He crossed his arms and waited by the house, timing his sons. A few minutes later they burst through the undergrowth, racing to see who could get to him first. Seinu quickly reached him, sliding to a stop and panting heavily as he proudly straightened his shoulders. The twins Raithra and Djeth joined him a moment later, shoving and bickering over who came in second.

"I was first!"

"Iyan! My hand crossed the line first!"

"There is no line!"

Auran growled and the pair quieted, peering up at him expectantly. He rubbed his chin, letting the anticipation hang in the air. "Raithra came in second."

Djeth gave his brother a sour look as the spikey haired youth smirked with satisfaction. Seinu said nothing, averting his eyes to avoid the question he knew his father was about to ask.

"Where is Zeyin?"

The twins shrugged, a habit they'd picked up from their mother.

Auran ignored their lax response, focusing on his eldest. He was 10 years old now. More than capable of caring for siblings without supervision. Seinu shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes on the ground. "I don't know. He wandered off a couple of hours ago."

"'Cause you were bossing him around," clicked Djeth.

"Yak'sallah i'tcheiku."

"Don't call me that!"

"Enough!" Auran barked and they quieted. "Raithra, Djeth. Get cleaned up and help your nana and Hefsa." The twins sped off, shouting and shoving as they raced for the kitchen. He inwardly smiled when Hefsa's muffled shouts sounded through the cool night air, yelling at them to get in the washroom before she beat them. He moved in front of Seinu and crouched so he was at eye level. "You broke the rule."

Seinu's mandibles clamped together and his fists bunched as he tried to hold his tongue.

"Speak."

"Harsan said we could stay out later because of how well we've been practicing!"

Auran raised an eyebrow in surprise. "He did?"

His son nodded.

"Where is he?"

"In the house, I think. He left this morning but then he came back and made us go outside. He does that when you and nana are gone. I don't think he knew you were coming home from your mission so early."

Auran stood, taken aback by the strange revelation.

"Seisa?"

He looked down at his son, Seinu's orange eyes wide with concern.

"I am in trouble?"

Auran grunted, swallowing the warmth filing his chest. It was hard to look at his sons without seeing them as infants, crawling and chirping around the house after him. He shook Seinu's shoulder. "Yan, go inside. Zeyin heard my call. He will find his way back." His eldest breathed a sigh of relief as he shook his father's arm in return. Auran watched him jog around the corner before returning his attention to the tree line, wondering if he should roar again when movement out of the corner of his eye made him pause. He glanced to his left, a small shadow disappearing around the other side of the house. He rumbled and headed inside. He would need to have a talk with his second son. It was dishonorable to avoid any type summoning without a good reason, especially when you'd committed a wrong. His conscience though, couldn't help reminding him all the times he'd avoided Iyeiden or one of the elders' summons when he'd been young, whether or not he'd done something wrong.

Distracted by the puzzle his second son presented, he didn't notice the four bodies careening towards him as he entered the house until it was too late. He grunted in surprise as Seinu, Raithra, Djeth and Sunok slammed into him, nearly falling over as they locked onto his legs. He looked up to see Ahandra peering around the corner, her top mandibles pulled back in a sheepish grin. Of course she'd be the one to mastermind his sons' affectionate ambush. He patted their heads, returning their excited clicks as they welcomed him home with deep ones of his own. Hugging and playing was something he was only comfortable doing around Ahandra. His sons were the future warriors of the Darkblade clan and he was hesitant to coddle them. When his mate was satisfied with his awkward attempts to bond with his children, she finally called them away to take their places around the low circular table as Hefsa set out the large bowls of food. Ahandra ushered him inside the room after them, saying she would find Harsan. She grabbed his arm, before he could leave, whispering, "Don't say anything to Zeyin yet."

"How'd you know?"

"Because he does exactly what you do when you're upset: he skulks."

He snorted. "I do not skulk."

"Fine. Brood. Whatever you want to call it." She clucked as he left to restore order, her sons already trying to stake a claim on the biggest pieces of meat. Sunok babbled with them, his limited vocabulary not stopping him from joining in on the fun.

Ahandra took a deep breath, enjoying the savory scents from the kitchen as she headed into the courtyard, the twilight sky painted orange and violet as Iren set behind the high hills. She softly padded over to Harsan's room on the second floor at the far end of the complex, the elder Darkblade preferring his privacy. She softly knocked on his door, tapping harder after a lengthy moment of silence. When nothing happened she rumbled anxiously. Harsan was beyond his prime but he wasn't that old… was he? Ahandra hesitated, weighing the pros and cons of overriding the door lock. She shrugged and figured it was about time she tested out what Auran had taught her in case of emergencies. She scrolled through the security options, tapping the symbols hovering around Harsan's door and with a soft thunk, the door unlocked. She gently tugged it open and peered inside, her mandibles gaping in surprise at what she found. Harsan lay passed out on his bed mat, stark naked, an arm thrown over a female's waist. _E'kru?_

The auto lights flared on, bathing the dark room with a golden glow. Harsan snapped awake and reached for his gun, freezing when he saw Ahandra staring at him. E'kru woke up a second later, warbling as she stretched, still half asleep. "What?" She looked around, her face glowing bright with embarrassment as soon as she saw Ahandra staring at the two of them. "Ahandra, I… uh…"

Ahandra tried to hold back her laughter. "Dinner's ready you two," she said, shaking her head as she shut the door.

She wasn't sure they would show up, but as she and Hefsa began to pour drinks, the couple appeared. Harsan's granite features gave away little. E'kru on the other hand, clearly felt guilty about intruding inside someone's home and getting caught, and kept averting her gaze to the floor. They sat between her and Auran, making sure to sit on the side appropriate to their gender. It was an odd tradition, but Ahandra didn't mind. Everyone had access to the plates of hot food set on the tray in the middle of table. It slowly rotated this way and that as everyone picked what they wanted. It was a sort of organized chaos that she was familiar with, having grown up with four siblings and a large extended family.

"Zeyin, take off your mask at the table," she chittered, kneeling beside him as she poured his drink, her words soft enough so that most couldn't hear her as they jostled for the juiciest slices of meat and hot bread. With a hissing pop, he slowly pulled it off, setting it down beside him and folding his hands in his lap. She nudged him when he didn't reach for the food. "Eat. You're too skinny to miss a meal." Zeyin's mandibles flared as he sighed and grabbed a thin strip from the spinning tray, munching on it and staring at his plate. At least, she imagined he was staring. It was hard to know, since he was born without eyes, the top half of his face completely bare and smooth. She took her place between Hefsa and E'kru, glancing over at her second child as he nibbled on his dinner. She wondered if he'd had enough to eat today. He used to eat everything in sight.

Auran caught her watching Zeyin and she tried to focus on the conversation, most of it generated by the talkative twins and Hefsa, who loved to share the gossip she gleaned from the marketplaces by the river. Sunok crawled from Hefsa's lap into hers and began what Ahandra considered more playing than eating with a piece of fried fish.

She knew she shouldn't play favorites with her sons, but she felt incredibly protective of her son, especially since he was a secret that few knew about. If others saw his glistening black skin and eyeless face, they would call him tainted and want him purged. It could be explained away as a birth defect, but xashi or not he was sekfet. 'Impure.' Unhealthy fetuses were almost always removed early after conception. It was the socially responsible, even moral, thing to do. When the healers had told Auran of Zeyin's condition, he'd told them to remove it. But when he'd informed Ahandra about his decision, she'd adamantly refused.

"Yan."

Auran's brow furrowed confusion. "What?"

"I'm not killing our pup."

"That's not a pup, that's a monster. It could kill you!"

"I would've had a vision. And my dreams are peaceful."

He began to pace, agitated that she did not feel the same as him. "You're being irrational. Even if it was harmless, what kind of future can a xashi have?"

"It's not his fault he was born this way," she growled. "It will be hard, but he can live. You survived."

Auran growled. "That's different!"

"No it's not! How many times have you told me about the Singing Blade elders deciding each year of your life whether or not to kill you? Or the bounties put on your head? Or the shame you felt because of your disgraced ancestors?"

She could see the years of pain draw over his face as he remembered. He growled. "And you'd willingly put your own flesh and blood through that?"

"He deserves a chance to choose his path in life and walk it, however short it may be. Iyeiden gave you a chance."

Auran clenched his fists. "That thing has no free will. It's half animal, it can't choose. I don't understand why you'd risk your life for that thing!"

"He's not a monster! If anything, you're the one being irrational!" How could he ask her to do this? This was their child. It was a miracle she could even still conceive after what her body had been through.

"I'm trying to protect you! Do you know what would happen to you if anyone found out that your blood is tainted?! I will not lose you to those abominations again!"

"This is our son we're talking about!"

"Yan, this is about our clan and our future, all of which you're putting in danger by letting it live!" he roared, grabbing her arm, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away.

"Let go! I will not do this!" She tried to twist her arm free, but his iron grip only tightened.

"Then I'll do it," he rumbled darkly and Ahandra watched, horrified as he revealed an injector full of sedative. She didn't think at that point, pouring all her rage and fear into him, the emotional shockwave knocking the breath from Auran's body. He'd crumpled to the ground and she'd fled with Seinu to the only person she could trust to keep her and the baby safe: Ajenke. She was the shan'ra and she owed Ahandra her life. She couldn't refuse her even if she wanted to. Those next few days tested her and Auran's relationship more than any other moment. Did she keep the baby and lose the male she loved? After everything they'd endured? Or did she abort the baby and live with the guilt?

She'd changed her mind a dozen times before she'd finally allowed Auran to see her. He'd looked haggard and defeated when they met. Before she could give her answer, he'd surprised her with a compromise: she could keep the baby, but her eggs would need to be screened and stored to ensure their future offspring were healthy. Filled with relief, she hadn't understood then how emasculated he'd felt. Harsan, who'd later confessed to coming up with the plan, had explained to her that for males to produce unhealthy offspring and be forced to rely on machines was a great shame. It didn't matter that the xashi venom had affected her eggs and her transformation back into a yautja had been imperfect, ultimately Auran would always blame himself. He'd failed to protect her.

Eventually, Auran had learned to tolerate the existence of his second son and not refer to him as 'it.' She'd named him Zeyin, liking the name Auran had taken when they'd hidden in the Midnight Blossom. Over the next several years, she watched her mate's frosty attitude thaw, partially facilitated by the birth of their twin sons and Sunok. But Ahandra feared it was too little, too late. Zeyin interpreted everything through the lens of his physical differences, seeing judgment behind every word or action whether it was there or not.

Reality crashed down on her in the form of her ice cold drink as Sunok, who'd managed to grab her wooden cup, dumped it on his face, the icy liquid pouring into her lap. He dropped the glass, sputtering and squeaking in shock. "Eyaa! Sunok, you troublesome pup," Hefsa clicked, gathering her thick robes and using them to wipe down the seat and floor. Ahandra moved over to the counters to dry her mewling toddler. "C-cold. Cold," he cried. "Bad!"

"Shh," she chittered, carrying him into the laundry room to strip off their wet clothes and change into clean ones. As soon as he was free from them though, Sunok took off down the hallway. E'kru popped out from around the corner and scooped him up, bringing him back. "Yan! Yaaaan!"

"Yan, clothes are good Sunok," Ahandra cooed.

He gurgled defiantly, making a face while she secured a fresh breech cloth around his waist. "Go find o'nana!" she said. He took off for the kitchen, chirping in excitement.

Ahandra sighed. "He's getting so fast."

"Saa," said E'kru as she watched he scamper down the hall. "Surprised you did not notice him grab cup."

"I was distracted for a moment."

"A moment? Distant whole meal. _Harsan _spoke more than you tonight. Not easy to do."

Ahandra sighed as she wrapped a fresh sarong around her waist. "I know. I'm just worried about Zeyin."

E'kru's eyes narrowed. "Auran do something?"

She shook her head. "Yan. It's… chah, I don't know how to explain it." She cocked her head, smiling as she looked over at her friend. "Speaking of the unexplainable… how long have you and Harsan been sneaking cuddle sessions in our house?"

E'kru blushed, a rare reaction from a pleasure female who'd once worked the Midnight Blossoms' Black Room. "A year. Lak'shura, no dishonor meant to anyone."

"Dishonor? I'm not angry. I'm just surprised. I never thought you and Harsan felt anything towards each other. You're both so… professional around each other. Practically clinical."

"We are snipers," she said, as if the blunt statement was enough to explain they're strange attraction to each other.

"Saa, but I thought you said you'd never mate with a male again?"

A soft smile tugged at her mandibles. "I did."

"So… what changed your mind?"

"It happened slowly. Do not know when, but one day I realize I wanted him. He was not like other males that parade through Midnight Tower. He was respectful. Calm. I feared feelings for many cycles. Then, on mission in western desert…" E'kru trailed off, her smile growing as she dwelled on the memory. "Harsan does not care if I barren," she continued, patting her stomach. "I do not care he is past prime."

"Well, it sounds like you're happy. I'm glad you both found each other. And if you two want to spend time together here, you don't need to hide."

E'kru gave her a nod of thanks and they headed back into the kitchen, Hefsa securing the squirming Sunok in her lap.

Later that night, when their sons had been put to bed and her youngest son lie sprawled between them, Ahandra told Auran about the secret love affair.

He was as surprised as she was. "I never even smelled her on him."

"Me either."

"You're sense of smell is terrible."

"Yak'sallah," she rumbled, closing her eyes and snuggling against her pillow. When she opened them, he was still staring her, his hard amber eyes intently studying her face.

"What?" she whispered.

"Nothing."

"Is it about Zeyin?"

"Hmm? I'd forgotten about that."

She chuffed.

"No point in saying anything now," he rumbled. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowly growing heavier.

"Auran?"

He grunted but didn't stir.

Ahandra watched him fall asleep, envious of how quickly he could slip into unconsciousness. Lately she'd been suffering from insomnia. And with her sleep went her visions. _Just when I'd started to get the hang of them too,_ she thought. She hadn't told anyone, but knew she had to soon. The temple elders were already growing impatient. She sighed, rolling onto her back. Maybe inducing her visions had been a mistake.

An hour came and went and she decided she'd had enough of lying in the dark listening to Sunok and Auran's rasping snores. She softly padded to the kitchen, surprised to find a small fire flickering in the hearth. Zeyin sat beside, poking it with a metal rod, creating swarms of dancing sparks. He paused, glancing over as she walked in. She grabbed a soft roll and sat down beside him. "Can't sleep?"

Zeyin clicked, moving the large sticks around with his poker to help the fire breath. "Saa."

"When was the last time you slept?"

He stopped his fiddling long enough to think. "A week ago. I slept a whole day."

"I remember that, saa. You almost ate all the food." She warbled. "Hefsa was so mad."

"Why can't you sleep?"

She bit into the bread, gnawing on the fluffy morsel as she thought about it. "I don't know. I'm tired, but my mind won't let me rest."

"Bad dreams?"

"Iyan. It's not like it was during the time of the Great Scourge."

"Will you tell me the story again?" He scooted around so he faced her, one leg tucked beneath him while the other hung off the edge.

Zeyin often asked her tell the story what happened when she and their father had faced Natharrak. She'd added some embellishments to make it more exciting, downplaying the horror and death. They didn't need to know about those things. Not yet. "Which part?"

"How you transformed back into a yautja."

She froze mid-bite. She set the bread in her lap, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why?"

"Because you never tell that part. You skip it and make seisa finish."

Ahandra leaned forward, clenching her fist around the half-eaten loaf. "I don't remember what happened, Zeyin."

He met her intense stare with his own dispassionate gaze. "You're lying."

"I am not."

"Saa, you are. I can tell when people are lying because there's this flash beneath their skin and their eyes glow a special way. Their hearts beat faster too. You're lying and you're afraid. Why?"

Ahandra blinked in surprised, taken aback by her son's unexpected acuity. "You can see that?"

"I see a lot of things others don't."

_That's right, he sees in ultraviolet. _Ahandra recalled her transformation, the city of Kuuroch pulsating with life and energy, the horde a river of bright green sparks swirling around her.

"How did you change back? Seisa said he found you a giant, gooey flower, but how did you get there? Is it like the cocoons the demons put their sacrifices in?"

Her hearts beat against her ribs, anxiety coursing through her veins. "Zeyin…" She couldn't lie. But she couldn't tell the truth either. At least, not all of it. "I… I made the xashi stay in N'tharralis." The words felt cathartic. Ahandra hadn't realized how heavy the secret had been until now. "And I ran, far away. I didn't know where I was going. I felt them die. All of them. It… it hurt. Like I'd lost one of you." She took a deep breath, Zeyin crawling over to sit in her lap. He leaned his head against her chest and she hugged him close, whispering as she pressed her cheek against his head. "And then I found the pit. It was dark and warm and I was scared. I made a cocoon and sealed myself inside. I changed myself. But it was slow. And painful. I wanted to give up so many times…" She fell silent, closing her eyes as she recalled those endless days and nights of torment.

"But you didn't."

"Saa."

"Do you think I could make a cocoon?" Zeyin whispered.

Ahandra squeezed him, her hearts aching. "You don't need to."

He sat up, pulling away and searching her face. "Why not? You changed."

She cupped his cheeks with her palms, rubbing her sons over the side of his face. "I did it because I had to. I would've hurt people if I'd stayed that way. Plus… the venom was still changing me. I used it to change back."

"Oh…" His shoulders slumped slightly as he took in the news. She hugged him against her, rocking back and forth as she rubbed his back, wishing she knew the right words to say. Instead, all she felt was guilt. Not because she'd let him live. But because he deserved the whole truth and she'd kept it from him. From everyone.

Auran had asked the same question Zeyin had all those years ago after he'd pried her from the cocoon's slimy maw. She'd said she didn't remember and he'd accepted that. He didn't care about the why or the how. She was alive. That was all that mattered.

Ahandra had wanted to tell someone the truth. But the pain and the hatred that lingered after the Great Scourge made her stay silent. And Auran's attempt to abort Zeyin had only solidified her decision. _I'm sorry Zeyin. Of all people you deserve the truth the most. But I made a promise. _

They stayed there until the fire became smoldering coals and her son had fallen asleep. She carried her son to the room he shared with his three other brothers, setting him on the top bunk above Seinu. Ahandra flinched when she saw Auran in the doorway. "God, don't sneak up on me like that." She trembled as he pulled her into the hall towards their room.

"What's wrong? You're shaking."

"I'm… tired. I couldn't sleep. Neither could Zeyin. You just startled me, that's all." The lie stung her throat as she swallowed the truth. Thankfully, he accepted her excuse.

They slipped into their room, Sunok now splayed sideways and taking up half the bed. They settled on the other half, Auran pulling her against his warm chest and wrapping an arm around her waist. His purrs vibrated through her back, soothing her to sleep.

That night, Ahandra dreamed of a dark warrior. He journeyed across an endless desert, the dunes rolling like waves beneath his feet as he strove forward. The wind howled, stinging his flesh with gales of sharp sand, tearing at his ragged black cloak that streamed behind him. The sandstorm swallowed him and she suddenly found herself in a circular cell, icy chains clamped around her thin wrists, bolted securely to the center of the stone floor. Voices filtered down from above and she looked up to see three silhouettes gazing down at her, their crimson eyes glowing with a fascinated malice.

"Is that her? The seer?" The dark voice's accent was flawless, each word carefully measured and weighed. He sounded mildly intrigued, as if he were examining a piece of art or exotic animal.

"Saa," whispered the smaller shadow standing across from two staring down at her.

"Fascinating," breathed the first voice, looking over at his companion for his thoughts.

He growled, the loathing his voice rattling around inside her icy prison. "It is a mistake as well as heresy to let her live. She is too dangerous."

"Nonsense," the other purred, a claw tracing the metal grating sealing her prison. "She probably doesn't even know what's happening." He looked up at the smaller shadow. "Probe her."

Agony swept through her and she screamed as pain split her skull open. She could only lie there, writhing as something reached inside her mind and began to rifle through her memories, selecting the ones that interested it the most. When it withdrew she vomited, blood and bile spattering onto the stone floor.

The second shadow sneered. "Disgusting."

"Make sure she doesn't remember," said the first voice.

Before she could react, darkness folded in around her, the freezing prison morphing into her warm furs, Auran's heady scent filling her throat. She slowly woke, her mate sitting cross legged by the pallet, writing something on a data slate. He quickly shut it off when she rolled onto her side, laying it out of sight as he turned to greet her. "Hey."

"Hey," she mumbled.

"How do you feel?"

"My head kinda hurts."

"Nightmare?"

She thought for a moment, her brows knitting together. The effort only made her head feel worse. "I don't remember."

Auran leaned down and kissed her. "Rest then."

"But—"

"Yan. Harsan told me how hard you've been pushing yourself lately. You shouldn't let those temple elders dictate to you when to have your visions."

"I know."

Another kiss and he stood to leave, securing his darkblade to his back.

"Auran."

"Hmm?"

"Sa'era."

He gave her one of his rare smiles, the one that told her he was happy. "Sa'era."

Ahandra settled into her furs, dozing away the rest of the morning, assured in the knowledge that her family was safe and thriving. It wasn't perfect, but it was perfect enough.

* * *

**\|/ ',- -/, **

* * *

The aseinan collapsed to one knee as soon as the connection severed, trembling and sweating as his mind absorbed the other seer's knowledge and memories. He hadn't expected them to be so potent.

His hackles prickled in fear as Churande's venomous gaze settled on him. "What did it see?"

"Many things."A sharp hiss made him fall to his knees, head pressed against the cold stone.

"I don't want vague answers, slave! What exactly did it see?"

His throat went dry as he searched for something useful, something that would please the highborn. "The… the seer, she… she suspects the High Clan of a plot to destroy the false god's temple in Kuuroch."

Churande grunted, but he did not sound displeased. "There many plots. Which one?"

"She had a vision. A serpent from the east ensnared the female kai. When it bit her, the temple cracked in two."

"Go on," growled the highborn when he paused.

"The seer acts as a confidant to the kai. For many years now, the young female has suffered from loneliness because of how distant the other kai is. He will not mate with her."

"Gaidulus," hissed Churande. "That arrogant bastard."

"It is a pity he was swayed to heresy. He was so dedicated to the old ways," murmured the younger highborn.

The aseinan dared not breathe when he spoke, the young yautja's voice too pure to taint with the sound of his own breath.

"What surveillance do we have on the young kai, Churande?"

"Not much. She exerts as much self-control as Gaidulus. But now we know she has a weakness. We can exploit that to bring down the temple. It would be a severe blow to that u'laude kalai that sits on her stolen throne."

"Ah, Ajenke… she is quite beautiful though, do you not think?"

The slave tensed as the female seer's memories flared to life, the fiery female sashaying across his mind's eye. He felt her emotions attached the memories: admiration, envy, pity, joy. The pride she felt at Ajenke's ability to embrace her destiny as shan'ra. The sorrow at the many cycles gone by since they'd had a moment to talk._ Distance yourself,_ he thought. He must not allow himself to absorb the emotions of the subject.

"Haven't you enough females?" Churande sighed. "But I suppose I could have one found that resembles her. It will be difficult. Stripes are a very rare skin pattern." He returned his attention back to the cowering aseinan. "Crawl back to Orak and tell him what you've seen. I've more important things to do than listen to you whimper."

He slowly raised himself to his feet, clasping his hands and hunching his shoulders as he backed away, his anxious yellow eyes never leaving the floor. When the door sealed behind him he bolted for his master's tower. There was so much to tell. She was far more dangerous and powerful than Orak had ever imagined. The God forbid she ever learned how to control her gifts.

* * *

**'|- ,-' \-**

* * *

**Author's Note: **Whew… wow… I can't believe it. I'm actually finished. Feel kinda sad actually… But I'm also happy, because my goal was to write a story and finish it. And I did. Now if my goal was to write a story with a fully developed plot, I would be disappointed in myself. I would love to go back and rewrite entire scenes. For instance, I wish I'd made Ahandra/Tyler more independent and take charge of her situation rather than rely on her visions to move her character along.

But this is fanfiction after all. We don't have professional editors or story groups to bounce ideas off of. Some of us are lucky enough to have a beta reader. Which reminds me…

I LOVE YOU SPEEDERINA AND KRIVOKLATSKO! You two are awesome. Thanks for getting me through the first half of Forbidden Alliance.

I also would like to thank the many reviews, favorites, follows and lurks I received from around the world. Don't know why, but ya'll enjoyed the story and stuck with me :)

Now some of you might be saying, "Wait a minute, Mau'indi. They didn't live happily ever after. What about poor Zeyin. And the cliffhanger. And Ahandra's secret. What's the secret? Tellll meeeee!"

*Ahem* I'm doing that because life goes on after the climactic battle. I have a vague idea for a sequel, but that's the problem. It's vague. I have main characters and mini-plots, but I run up against the same problem I had when I first started Forbidden Alliance: there's no ending. So unless inspiration strikes me on the head, I'm shelving the sequel and moving on to a story I KNOW the ending to: The Spear Trilogy! *fanfare*

I'm very excited to post this story. I have seven out of 12 chapters of the first part, Son of the Spear, pretty much complete and I'm currently mapping out the second part, Path of the Spear.

Please let me know your final thoughts on Forbbiden Alliance in the comments box below!

P.S. First time doing smut. Good, decent, horrible? I ask because I plan on doing smut for The Spear Trilogy. (Also, please don't use a knife during your sexy times. This is fiction and Auran is a highly skilled assassin. Only he's allowed to do stuff like that.)


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